At the Break of Dawn
by Aeroutak
Summary: Okinawa has fallen. Japan is encircled. Given a second chance, will the last International Naval Base in Japan be able to break through the blockade? A warship designed to ward off threats from decades past may be the tipping point of this war.
1. Prologue

**I think I'm done...?**

 **The reboot of Until the End is here!**

 **Thank you for reading, reviews are appreciated.**

* * *

"Good luck comrade, and make us proud." Admiral's words echoed through her head as a doctor began typing on a flickering blue panel, erasing her prior self, and with it, her consciousness.

 _Japan, in ten hours. Da. East of Tokyo, just North of Yokosuka International Naval Base. I accept your mission, Admiral. It is my time to make a change. Even the threat of the Corruption has not unified humanity._


	2. The Last Objective

**The first actual piece of text.** **Thank you all for reading!**

 **-Aeroutak**

* * *

There was nothing. The sounds ever present in the world were absent. No booming of the guns of war, no thudding of torpedoes, and no whistling of bombs. Silence. Kirov lay in the darkness, suspended in the middle of the abyss that seemed to completely envelope her new realm. Light was a thing non-existent here. It was supposed to be a transport to Tokyo-a new technology that could beam matter to a selected place without any danger of interception.

Honestly, Kirov would have much preferred a plane, but transport aircraft were too vulnerable. Smaller, quieter planes would not be able to hide themselves until they reached Japan either. The capsule used by the prototype was safer and more economical.

It was impossible to tell the time here, but there wasn't much need anyway. She had never used the prototype before, hell, nobody had. Through tests with inanimate objects had it been deemed successful.

Kirov grew impatient quickly, as if she were waiting for a big event.

She recollected her memories of her home port, Severomorsk, of her friends and comrades, of her officers, sailors, her patrols, and the engagement that sunk her and severely damaged numerous others of her patrol. The seemingly endless shortages of supplies, the burdens of the new government attempting to keep under the radar of the bordering nations. Other times, she simply relaxed and tried to enjoy this sense of peace.

She did not know much about the world these days; but she knew better than to trust this serenity to last.

It was a long time ago that the world had nearly been devoid of war. Small conflicts still sprang up here and there, and the nations of the Earth had formed the largest anti-terrorist coalition in history. Five of the superpowers of the world joined and designed a new class of ships, known as the Eurocruisers. The nuclear-powered mobile weapons platforms were packed with weapons, the most sophisticated missiles and torpedoes. State-of-the-art ballistics, and the most effective point-defense ever created.

They were designed to stay behind the horizon and lob their ordnance at the enemy, intended as a tool to make the UN's dream of peace a reality. Two of the ships were completed. One would belong to Britain, the other to Russia. It seemed that humanity was finally nearing unity.

In the years following Kirov's completion, the Russian Federation passed her to the hidden Soviet Union. The Stavka objected, saying that possession of Kirov would reveal their existence to the world. After much debate, she was given to the Soviets.

The last three were to be in the possession of France, Germany, and the United States. It was thought safer that the ships be kept in the control of five countries rather than one.

Construction was halted abruptly when the Corrupted, as the Soviets took to calling them, began their campaigns in the Pacific Ocean.

The United Nations was torn between mustering military strength or attacking the Corrupted immediately. As reports filtered in, the Council became weary.

The sea lanes between North America and Asia had been severed. Ships and planes, merchant or military, were attacked and destroyed with disturbing efficiency. Their crews were unable to broadcast a full warning before they were drowned out and cut off. Supplies were unable to be transported, Hawaii was surrounded.

Okinawa fell.

Japan was blockaded.

From the first reported attack location in the Northern Pacific, the Corrupted were sighted in the Southern Pacific, and then the Atlantic. Kirov and the Red Navy had been unconcerned until an air attack obliterated the coastal defenses of Severomorsk.

It was quite a feat.

Kirov had been woed by the harbour as she was sailed and moored there for the first time. Massive naval guns and barricades, bunkers and AA batteries placed in every position imagineable. There were missiles too, only revealed when the Corrupted attacked.

Her first life had ended two days after that, on a final patrol. Reconstructed and modern warships alike were sortied. Their purpose? Delay further attacks until coastal defenses were rebuilt.

Her second life was blurry now. She had heard they would slightly modify a few systems, but wiping half her memory was...extensive. Perhaps she was just having a moment of amnesia.

She longed to go back. She longed to see her comrades again, to have the sea brushing against her hull again. She longed to rest in the dock, to watch her sailors drink and laugh until the world flipped itself in their vision and they awoke in the morning to the Admiral blaring a trumpet at their ears.

Good ol' days. Kirov felt a wind brush over her.

 _Huh? There's no wind down here…_

* * *

 _Tap. Ta-tap. Tap, tap, tap. Ta-tap, tap, tap. Tap. Ta-ta-ta-tap. Ta-tap, tap, -tap, ta-ta._

A morse code message buzzed in her ear.

 _Corrupted_ , it said.

The tapping continued. _Corrupted presence detected on the horizon. Callsign Sandwich requesting landing._

Kirov forced her eyes open. She found herself laying in the life support capsule, sweat drenching the back of her uniform and coat. The container was still the same, but less claustrophobic now. The top of her transport had opened, jagged ridges opening up to a pristine blue sky.

 _Not Tokyo._

Opening her eyelids further, she saw that beyond the charred and bent metal of the capsule arose a thick, billowing smoke. It rimmed the sky she so cherished in both her lives, as a warship, and her life as a-

Her mind fell blank. It would not allow her to access the information to complete that thought; it was as if that chapter of her life had been sectioned off and labelled "Authorized Personnel Only".

She propped herself up on her elbow, acknowledging the fact that her upper body had regained control. Wanting to move beyond dragging herself with her hands, she looked downwards.

Kirov immediately regretted it.

The second Eurocruiser, state-of-the-art heavy artillery ship built by five nations found her feet smashed, her shins disappearing into a bloody pile of metal and electronics fizzing out the last of their lives. She clenched both hands over her stomach, and tried to quell the heaving.

 _Aie! Repair crews! Damage report! And I'm assuming something went wrong somewhere along the line._

Kirov quickly looked away, her eyes finding a bird conveniently flying overhead. Feeling her stomach calm, she sighed slowly and dropped back into the position she was in at the time of her awakening.

There was the drone of rotors, and a battle-worn helicopter cut its engine. The flying rounded cube of metal landed clumsily on a flattened part of the wreckage, likely made as a makeshift airfield. Its warped airframe creaked as it was relieved of the stress of flight, and the door opened with some difficulty. Kirov saw her navigations officer step out, salute to her with the plainest face she has ever seen the laid back man wear, and step briskly back into his vehicle.

He definitely wasn't licensed to fly.

She recognized the chopper as Helicopter Three, one of her assault helicopters she liked to carry. It was fitted with a powerful radar but had no sonar, she had onboard sonar instead. That was probably the asset which allowed it to locate the Corrupted.

 _Corrupted,_ the word struck a chord. _Ah, those...things._ The feeling morphed into a frenzied fear, the last memory of her first life replaying.

* * *

 _The rebuilt Gangut sailed beside her, in the left-center of the patrol. There had been reports of missing ships to the west of Russia. There was a record._

 _All trade lanes cut. All merchant ships sunk._

 _All patrol routes intercepted. All military vessels sunk._

 _All airways jammed. All aircraft, military or commercial, shot down without a trace._

 _The radar crew called out to her captain._

" _Sir! Corruption, twenty-nine kilometers, northeast!"_

Behind us? _Captain thought._

" _Very well, comrade. Signal Gangut, and turn the formation seventy degrees to port."_

 _Her morse lamp had flared vigilantly in the night. Gangut replied affirmative, echoed by the rest of the patrol._

 _The modern and reconstructed ships had completed their turn when a destroyer announced contact._

" _Open fire," Captain ordered. Four guns flashed in the darkness. Barely after that, a massive explosion shook the remaining ships. A cheer arose in the bridge, until the radar crew shouted a second report._

" _Gnevy's gone! She's completely wiped off the screen!"_

 _The bridge fell silent. Captain sat bolt upright, and placed a hand on his cap._

 _He gritted his teeth. "Turn for home, comrades. Fire as we go, protect the merchant cruisers at all costs! That is the Motherland's last reserve of prototypes, if they sink, America will have quite a hard time." He trailed off._

" _I hope we can redeem ourselves for the Stavka's foolish actions in the past."_

 _Kirov saw the Corrupted vessels as they closed the distance, flaming wrecks now littering the sea. Skin bleached as pale as polished stone, eyes that stared at her with the withering intensity of the summer heat where the wind still made the sea a chilling place._

 _They were...terrifying. And yet, when Gangut's steering engine erupted in a bout of flame, followed by her fore magazine, Kirov felt her missile racks go dry._

 _The missile crews reported no locks; the human-sized targets were too small._

 _She felt her last salvo spiral out of her aft gun, before the crews opened up the reserve. Nobody had been watching the sea._

 _The crew's ears had been ringing nonstop as explosions shook the waters, but they weren't prepared for one at such a close proximity. The torpedo struck her main armor belt, blew a gaping hole in the hull aft the seventh bulkhead. Yells filled the air as damage control teams struggled to keep her watertight._

 _Her last vision of that life was her bow slipping beneath the waves, the Red Star shining to the flames dancing across the sea. Her fore gun let out a last futile shot, striking something. She did not know what._

* * *

Her brown trench coat hugged her, and she found her ushanka resting next to her head. Both were slightly charred, but her uniform under the coat seemed to have survived unscathed. Judging by the wind she felt passing over her legs, she concluded that her tights were ripped in multiple places.

And her boots...they were non-existent. Which was likely the case with propulsion as well.

Damage control and repair confirmed her suspicions. _Propulsion's gone. Nothing is left under the sixth bulkhead._

Kirov trusted her crew with her life, and probably more if she could. They served her faithfully the first time, the second time she was unsure-they would evidently work as diligently as before to keep her fighting.

She had to admit: without them, she wouldn't have survived nearly half as long both times around, Kirov knew that much. The only member missing? Her Captain.

Her crew was unable to communicate with her when she was a warship, as humans. But they treated her with care and fought her as if she was alive; she respected them deeply for that. Now that they were able to talk, they learned who she was. What she liked, what she thought, what she fought for.

They were the people Kirov fought to protect, as they fought to protect their shared Motherland.


	3. Preparations for War

_To all gun crews. Assist repair parties in reconstructing propulsion. With our stockpiled resources, it should be fine. Aircrews. Ready landing platforms. Damage control, status report on the reactor._

She once again waited. She felt the crews who normally operated her main turrets filter to the hold and grab as much plate armor and spare parts as they could. She knew the Chief of Engineering would be giving Repair a lecture on her blueprints all over again.

 _Nuclear status: Normal. No damage found._

Kirov breathed a sigh of relief. If her reactor was damaged, she would likely not get a new one. It was heavily protected, but if it was indeed hit, it was more than probable for the powerplant to explode.

 _Repair on propulsion on hold. I'm moving out of here to give you some more space. I'm assuming you'll be unable to rebuild it to functionality under that pile of metal._

She really hoped the numbing agent in her legs would not wear off for a long, _long_ time. With the "Affirmative" from the crews, she grabbed a hold of the edge of the wrecked capsule. The metal bit into her skin, cutting it.

Kirov gritted her teeth, and grappling with the steel, hefted herself out of her ruined transport.

 _I wonder why I've landed here? Zis is not Tokyo, for sure._

She found a soft, white beach surrounding the capsule. The island was a very small one; she could make out the sea on the other side. A few trees stood in a small grove near the North side, according to the bridge crew.

The sea was as beautiful as ever. It was her home, and even as closed in as she was, no matter how burned out and stressed she worked herself up to, the sea would always be able to calm her. She was able to remember that as well. Bits and pieces of her second chance.

The wind was gentle, flowing nicely over the ocean. The sun shone in the sky, its only rival the now very visible plume of thick, black smoke radiating from Kirov's capsule.

Her aircrews ran out her platform. It extended out of a metal piece that was wrapped around her right upper arm, and it unfolded into a hexagonal helicopter pad. Callsign Sandwich revved its engine and landed softly on it. Only then was Kirov able to see the full extent of damage it had taken.

Its hull was dented, obvious signs of battle lingering on its plating. Its tail boom was warped, its skis barely recognizable. She ordered the helicopter repaired, and requested a report of the other two.

 _Helicopter One, callsign Quartet. Inoperational, hull not intact. Helicopter Two, callsign Glaive. Inoperational, engine damage. Electronic failure._

Ah.

She decided to leave her questions. Those could be answered when they were underway. Kirov took in her surroundings again, specifically the capsule's wreckage.

 _There it is._

A black case, about as large as a microwave. It was reinforced with steel, and Kirov tapped her wrist on the blue access panel. It flickered and the top panels slid open, revealing her armaments.

There was her shortsword, the one Admiral had given her at the end of the Battle for the Sea of Japan.

There was a small piece of technology that strongly resembled an earpiece. Kirov picked it up and tucked it securely behind her right ear. It was black, and its blue lights would flicker now and then.

And, in the corner, a bottle of vodka. Wrapped in foam, it'd survived the impact.

 _As considerate as always, Admiral. Appreciated, Sir._

She sat herself under a tree, its leaves gently dancing in the wind. Kirov watched as her limbs slowly came back, first as a steel frame, then the interior, the reconstruction of the bone, and finally flesh and skin.

"Completely repaired?" Kirov asked her repair party aloud. "Though I believe it may have been better to save resources. Bridge, position?"

 _Unknown. Callsign Sandwich has concluded that we've landed in the East China Sea, possibly a few hundred kilometers north of Okinawa. Japan's pretty close._

Kirov gazed upwards. The sun had reached its peak for the day, now beginning to arc downwards. She stood up.

"Make all preparations necessary. We leave immediately." She checked her sword, and clicked the earpiece she hung on her right ear. "Avoid contact with the Corrupted force Sandwich reported earlier at all costs."

A metal box hitched onto her back, her bridge standing just behind her head. Her funnel was just aft, point-defense missile batteries positioned around it. Two structures unfurled, and upon the arms rested her two main guns, 180mm triple mounts, the same as her 1938 counterpart, above and behind her shoulders. Two sections of her hull protruded beside her legs from beneath the bridge, containing surface-to-surface missiles. Anti-aircraft missiles were placed along the entire length.

She tossed the bottle of vodka to the gun crews.

"Keep it safe." Her riggings continued to appear. Two quadruple torpedo mounts on her thighs; very fast, with very short range. The perfect panic weapon.

Her propulsion, rebuilt, took the form of her old boots, and replacing the heels were two rudders. Nothing too out of the ordinary, except for the battle damage similar to her helicopters'.

 _Moderate damage. Suspecting it was received during the crash. Port point-defense missile battery down. Gun number one, third barrel down. Four surface to surface missiles inoperational. Steam turbines are fine._

Ah, should be okay, hopefully the warped steel holds up.

 _We must be moving quickly now, the smoke is noticeable from a distance. Radar crews, full power on the sonar as well. I do not want to be caught off guard._

She stepped into the shallow waters by the shore. Without looking back at the wrecked capsule, she ordered her engineering division to push the reactor to full power.


	4. Sea of Fire

**Apologies for the long delay. I've been sick this entire week...**

 **Anywho, hope you enjoy. Thank you for reading!**

* * *

At least, the sea would always be the same. Her home, her refuge. It was the place she could relax entirely; it was the place she knew better than the land she lived on in her new form. However mysterious it was to man, however dangerous it may seem, it felt safe to her.

And yet, if it was indeed the "Corruption" that had doomed her to sink, it was the sea, in the end, which had taken her life.

 _No,_ she thought. _Look forward. There are more pressing matters than reminiscing my past._

 _I would like to make China. I'd need to head East, but I do not know how far, or, if the Corruption has become strong enough, if China still exists. Above all, these may be hostile waters. Japan seems much closer, but we were on the brink of war when the Corruption struck. Hopefully Mother Russia and Japan are on better terms now._

She steamed north, enjoying the feeling of the ocean spray. Her screws churned up a mighty wake tailing her as she cruised at her usual 20 knots; a speed she could maintain almost infinitely. It was tempting to start up the steam turbine and go into fourth battle speed, thirty-five knots.

 _I must conserve the fuel I have at the moment._

The wind whipped around, her hair billowing behind her and steel creaking happily to the roll and pitch of the sea. If she subtracted the fact that her legs and damage control teams were crying out in protest to the flooding, and her clothing was still in tatters, Kirov could be moderately happy once again. The only other nagging thing was the knowing of the injustice that haunted the world.

She felt it was important to keep oneself happy. Her instinct said so, her experience said enjoy your moments while you can. It would keep everyone around her happy, it would keep herself happy, things would run smoother. She could have pretended the world was safe, safe from the Corruption pouring out from what was called the Abyss.

She sighed. The now setting sun sparkled on the waves, and fish were visible just under the surface. A few coastal birds soared overhead, calling to each other. And then, a bright flash. It crossed the waters, illuminating the islands to the north-west, lighting up the clouds of the brewing squall near said islands.

 _Unidentified contact, bearing north-northeast! Confirmed muzzle flash!_ Kirov felt a sudden wave of panic at the radio crew's announcement. She quickly suppressed her heart rate, for her crew if not for herself.

"Rudder, one-quarter starboard! Navigations, set course for the squall! We'll hide ourselves, and watch for if they are friend or foe."

 _Affirmative._

 _Alright. They're the same as me. Humanoid warships._

"No change in plans, get Sandwich patched up as much as you can, and get us an aerial scout as quickly as possible."

 _Aye!_

She looked back up, and saw the looming clouds of the squall before her. Kirov hunched over, shouldering the rain, and ordered engineering to cut speed to full stop. As she slowed in the frothing waves, the blowing rain and slightly biting wind made normal vision impossible. Kirov shut her eyes, and brought up a radar grid instead.

She felt her aircrews run out the platform.

 _It will be risky taking off in this wind. Are you sure about launching, ma'am?_

"Affirmative, comrade. Good luck."

 _Thank you. Helicopter Three, callsign Sandwich, airborne._

The sputtering of the engine, and then the whipping of rotors. The assault helicopter roared into the sky once again.

Kirov brought up the video feed alongside the radar. The patrol was human. Not Corrupted.

 _A relief. Who are they fighting?_

The helicopter flew onwards, attempting to elevate itself as much as possible to hide itself. On the horizon, six plumes of smoke advanced closer.

Unhealthily pale for a normal human, riggings as black as if they absorbed all light.

 _There they are. Comrades, engage at twelve kilometers. If possible, do not interfere at all._

As the helicopter turned its camera back down, it caught a few of the shipgirls glancing up at it.

 _They've been spotted._

Guns erupted in the distance, and she spied what looked like miniature planes rushing from both battle groups. Piston engined fighters, flying alongside dive bombers, pitted against awkward white flying spheres and darker, more triangularly shaped dive bombers. Their engines buzzed as the battle moved progressively closer to Kirov, and she could see the ships quite clearly now.

The Corrupted surrounded a fleet carrier with numerous escorts, at least one battleship judging by the size of her riggings. The shipgirls were from a number of nations. The majority were Japanese: A battleship, a few cruisers, and many destroyers. One American fleet carrier in a dark grey USN uniform, a second battleship. A German cruiser in a red and black Kriegsmarine uniform.

As the enemy approached, the warships fired. Old fashioned, from the looks of it. Great geysers of water erupted around ships, and it was rather difficult to stay dry. A few hits detonated on both sides, a small explosion following each. Suddenly, the sky blossomed into rolling flame as a Corrupted cruiser detonated.

 _Magazine. Nice shot._

A girl, a carrier from her riggings, raised a paved flight deck. A squadron of aircraft fired off, in rapid succession, into the blazing sky. From Sandwich's feed, Kirov identified the squadron as a dive bomber squadron: composed of the famous Dauntless dive bombers. Fighter squadrons of Hellcats and Corsairs escorted them through the inferno of bullets that slashed through the sky. Two battleships leveled their guns and shot, water recoiling from their eruptions. Ten great splashed arose, knocking the Corrupted carrier into the sea. However, repositioning her headdress, stood back up, an infuriated look arising in her eyes. A new stream of "aircraft" took to the skies.

A cruiser took its chance. Seeing the shock of the shipgirls at the fact that their air arm was not destroyed yet, it positioned its guns and fired. Six orange shells streaked across the air.

The German cruiser turned her side to the shells, hoping to evade them. Two struck her starboard turret, causing minimal damage. A third landed on her back and set the poor girl on fire, and she screamed before frantically trying to set the fire out.

 _I n-need to help them…_

 _Then do it!_ Her navigations officer said. _If you feel the need to help like you always do, then do it!_

 _They're scary though...those eyes especially...they've killed me once, they can do it again._

 _Oh come on, look closely, they're old WWII ships! Have more trust in us!_ Her artillery officer pitched in.

 _Exactly! We'll keep you safe,_ chimed the torpedo officer.

Kirov hesitated. _Comrades...I-I'm not sure...if..._

 _If you're going to help, it's now,_ said her navigations officer urgently. A dive bomb hit the carrier and blew a good hole in her deck. When Kirov, looked back at the sky, there were only remnants of allied squadrons left airborne.

She sighed, but a small smile slowly spread itself on her face. Her fears dissipating, she trusted her crew's words.

 _Thank you. Time to step in. Comrades, general quarters! Weapons hot!_

She ordered radio silence lifted. As she expected, a call from the patrol was one of the first things she found.

As the broadcast came, three red flares blew their caps and flashed into the sky. An internationally recognized distress signal.

Kirov spoke into her radio. "Task Force Thirteen, distress call received. Steaming for your location from the southwest. Out."

She faintly saw a few members of the patrol sweep their gazes in her direction, a battleship dressed in black the first to locate her. Being hidden in the squall, the battleship must be equipped with radar.

Her missiles reported their locks. Gun directors shouted ranges and calculations, before her turrets rotated and their barrels raised. Rain deflected off her form as she took her speed to thirty-seven knots, coat billowing in the wind.

She waited until just nearly breaching the squall.

 _You have gone far enough. Now, stop._

"Sound the salvo alarm! All weapons systems, fire!" Her missiles were first. As they silently slipped out of their silos, her guns barked and six red tracered shells flew at their destinations. Her missiles spread out before their rockets ignited, pushing them outwards in a star. Then they turned head on, and rushed out of the squall themselves.

Kirov winced as the sun pierced her vision. She raised a hand to block it, and gave a second command. Kirov ignored the stares at her and the repeated radio signals demanding her name and class. Minor details could be sorted out later.

The Eurocruiser was never a fan of legal or formal procedures, anyway.

"Independent targeting. Fire at will. Rudder, half to port!" She paused, waiting for it to turn. "There. Set to zero. We'll continue at this angle, it should be easier to pad a few shots."

A jet of flame caught her eye in the distance, and the report of guns reached her ears soon as well.

 _Those shells are inbound to us. Estimated time, six seconds. From a battleship, estimated diameter fourteen inches._

"Cut steam turbines! Point-defense, open up! Rudder, full starboard!"

Her maneuverability was average. Rudder shift and turn time were okay. Her speed was exceptional. That made her something of a big destroyer.

Which came with paper-thin armor.

She'd turned nearly completed her turn when the shells reached her. Kirov decided that point-defense designed for missiles was considerably less effective against shells than munitions defense. Her point-defense was good, she felt confident against any missile threat. But in the old modern age, shells were not a primary weapon; therefore, not many ships had the new munitions defense systems installed.

She watched as two shells detonated in the air as her missiles hit. The sky blossomed into flame once again as another two Corrupted vessels exploded. Nonetheless, four shells scored hits. One streaked into her second main gun, nearly hitting the ammunition locker which would have caused it to explode. The shell instead over-penetrated and shot into the waters below.

Two shells struck her newly rebuilt propulsion. She felt a wave of pain that dulled her vision, and then heard the frustrated cries of the repair party.

One shell struck directly below her hip. It fragmented on a bone, wounding scores of her crew. Blood erupted from the wound, at the same time it was pooling in the medical bay and in the hallways.


	5. The New World

Kirov stood in horror as the reports came flooding in.

"Over-penetration! Main turret incapacitated!"

"Medical bay is overloaded!"

"Steering gear hit! Rudder's jammed!"

"There's a hole beneath the waterline! We're taking on water, quickly!"

She was dimly aware of the battle's end, announced by an enraged howl from the Corrupted carrier. Kirov's mind blotted out the outside world into a diminished grey.

The Eurocruiser ordered the remaining crews to waterproof her, as quickly as possible. The wounded were first priority after her ability to remain afloat. And thus, conducting her crew internally, she was not aware when the fleet carrier of the patrol steamed to within four meters of her.

"Repair estimates we'll be alright for steering in about fourteen minutes."

Kirov looked toward the burning in her leg. The flesh was cut; the leg cut from the shrapnel thrown off by the detonation of the shells. Blood was flowing profusely from the wounds.

 _How much blood does a human have to lose before they die again? I remember someone lecturing me about this at some point._

"Ma'am! Unidentified carrier, directly ahead!"

Kirov shook her head quickly and her vision came back into focus, more or less. She winced as her legs shook, her repair parties scrambling to carry supplies and mend breaches.

 _I'll lose a lot of blood. Whatever this carrier wants to do...I do not believe I am in any condition to resist. Perhaps I'll even bleed out here._

"You have a good chance, we basically saved them," her bridge crew said. "Play it friendly, for now."

"I still wouldn't trust them," two voices cut through. "Are they not all that different from the Corrupted?"

She absentmindedly reached an arm up to feel for her ushanka. Her hand ran across the Red Star, and she breathed a small sigh of relief. When her eyes could make out the carrier, Kirov subtly raised the barrels of her one functioning turret to point toward the carrier and the area behind her. Hopefully the action would not be noticed.

The carrier wore a dark grey USN uniform, and had reddish-brown hair tied back into a ponytail. Her flight deck was scarred, but Kirov could still make out a distinctive "3". A formation of ships appeared behind her. A battleship in white robes, a second in a black uniform and bold golden trim. Two destroyers followed them with a small number of cruisers.

As she approached, Kirov could see her shocked expression; however, the cruiser would argue that the American was in no better state than she was. Perhaps this carrier was too kind for her own good.

Kirov had already felt herself beginning to slip when an explosion rang in the air and her left leg buckled. She slumped onto her knees in the water.

Yells and cries of alarm replaced silence as the patrol began to recover from the shock. Kirov, too drained of blood to think clearly, dismissed the crew's reports.

 _Try your best,_ she instructed. _I-I'm not lasting much longer._

The Eurocruiser heard a gunshot, then another. Her back slumped, and the cruiser sat silently watching the waves below her.

She dropped her head, when a shout came that sounded somewhat like a cry of surprise.

"Ey! Don't sink on us now! Kongou, disengage! I need your help!" In her clouded mind, Kirov felt two pairs of arms wrap around her and pull her out of the water. She was left in the arms of someone.

Her mind left her reeling in darkness then.

* * *

A crack of sunlight slipped through her eyelids. Judging by the rocking and the spray of water, they were still at sea. Kirov felt herself on the same pair of arms, and recognized the face of the carrier through her half-opened eyes.

She moved, and she felt a response from her steed.

"We're almost there, hold on a little longer," the carrier said. Her limbs still felt numb, and a large sheet was tied securely around the wound on her leg. She laced a hand in her blood-matted hair, and shifted in her coat.

"Hmm. Where are we going?" Kirov asked weakly. The carrier gazed down.

"Yokosuka. Yokosuka International Naval District."

Kirov relaxed her body. _That's my destination. I will ask Admiral for better transport next time._

"Saratoga."

"Huh?"

The carrier made a motion to herself. "Saratoga, CV-3. It's nice to meet you."

Kirov contemplated the statement. _Introductions. I'm horrible at these._

"Likewise. Eurocruiser Kirov. Soviet heavy artillery ship. I came to help."

 _I should be transparent, I must build trust if I am to help them._

Saratoga tilted her head as if to ask, _Help? I didn't get word of that._ But the carrier did not inquire further, and Kirov decided to explain later. She turned her head to get a closer look at the rest of the patrol. The two battleships were still there, steaming at center-flank. The destroyers were up front, talking and laughing like there was not a concern in the world.

 _I'll do my best to make it that way._

A cruiser was beside Saratoga, wearing a scorched red and dark grey uniform. She was German, from the insignia. A pair of blue eyes met with hers, face framed by an equally scorched head of blonde hair.

The cruiser smiled, waving.

Kirov nodded with a small grin herself and rested her chin back on her chest. Everyone in the patrol seemed tired; how hard were they fighting each sortie? They were all damaged to some degree, and seemed weary but alert of their surroundings at the same time.

The shore approached quickly. A metropolis of buildings stood in the background, a number of skyscrapers shining in the sun.

They had to be Tokyo, Yokosuka wasn't supposed to be that big. It couldn't have grown that exponentially, especially during a blockade, could it?

The base was discernible as the waterfront closed. A large building, with a reinforced blast door that opened into the bay. An armory, presumably. A long row of buildings was present to the right. They seemed like apartments.

And then there was a tall, yet stocky building. It looked like a regular office building, concrete, with large windows. But who knows, that concrete could be infused with Stalinium.

 _Perhaps it's comfortable inside._

That's when she noticed it was only morning-the battle had been in the afternoon.

Kirov shifted her gaze again. "Comrade, how long have we been sailing?"

Saratoga gave her a small stare before a smile came back onto her face. It looked like the most natural of all her expressions, and it seemed the carrier was generally a happy person.

"Er, since you went out, about eleven hours?" Kirov paused as she processed the information, and slowly turned to look at Saratoga.

"You're not tired? My displacement should be almost equal to yours."

Saratoga shifted her arms slightly. "No, I'm fine," she said quickly. It did not convince Kirov, but she couldn't feel her legs anyway, so she went along with it. Soon, as she was enjoying the sea, the harbour closed around them. It was not as fortified as she would have thought-there were no coastal defense guns like in Russia.

There was a seawall, but other than that and the armory, it looked like a park with buildings.

The fleet here must be quite powerful. _I'd like to know them._


	6. Yokosuka Naval District

**Oh, it's been a long time. My life's gone to War Thunder and school, but it's lightened up and I can finally find time to write again. I apologize for letting this die for so long, but I'll be writing it again.**

 **-Aeroutak**

* * *

"We're entering the armory now. Hold on to me, there'll be some shaking, but I think you'll be fine. Try to not pressure that leg of yours too much," Saratoga voiced as the patrol sailed into the open steel doors of a squat building. It appeared to be a large armored box, as if it had simply been _dropped_ on the waterfront, half sunk in the earth. Like a bunker, a blockhouse.

It was much more spacious inside than Kirov had anticipated. Immediately after Saratoga sailed through the jaw-like bulkhead, Kirov looked on in awe at the cavernous room. Lights illuminated the windowless interior in rows, and the ground was just below the waterline-perhaps six inches under.

The Eurocruiser looked up at the trusses supporting the ceiling, at the faceless grey walls. It felt like a protected warehouse, a very, _very_ , reinforced warehouse.

She heard a clink and then a winch catching, and shortly after the grinding of chains and machinery. As each member of the patrol stepped onto the circles, a powerfully built steel crane whipped across the ceiling and hoisted their riggings off.

"Can you stand?" the ship carrying her asked suddenly.

"E-eh?"

"Can you stand?" Saratoga repeated. "The cranes can't lift off your riggings with you backwards like this."

 _Oh. That's no problem._ Kirov shook her head, a small smile appearing on her lips. She spoke a few short words to the bridge crew, and the steel superstructure behind her began to shine. The guns turned and pointed forward at rest, before the entire rigging dissipated into blue light.

She looked back up at the carrier. Saratoga's face betrayed a small amount of shock, but she quickly recovered with a chuckle and a casual shrug of her shoulders.

"That works too, Eurocruiser."

"Ngh!" Kirov groaned as Saratoga pushed open the doors to the armory, revealing the dazzling light outside. Only now did she realize how dark the entryway into the base had been. She pushed her face into Saratoga's shoulder, pressing the last of the flashing brilliance out of her vision.

"Ahaha, you'll get used to it. What are you, a vampire?" the carrier joked. Kirov gave a disgruntled hum in response. Still leaning on Saratoga, the duo felt their way outside and Kirov lifted her head ever so slightly.

Only for her light blue eyes to be met with piercing crimson ones. Kirov instinctively moved herself closer to Saratoga, but immediately recoiled as pain shot up her leg. She whimpered and let herself lean entirely on the carrier beside her.

The woman who stood before her was probably almost half a foot taller than her, and a small bit taller than Saratoga. She wore a black dress and a white pleated skirt, but the outfit exposed her midriff.

She held her arms crossed, an authoritative expression dominating her face.

 _Must be a battleship, at least…_

"Good to see you back, Saratoga," the Japanese woman spoke. Kirov felt the carrier shift under her.

"It's a good feeling, Nagato."

 _Nagato? Sister of uhh, Mutsu? My history's been really lacking, hasn't it..._

She heard a chuckle before she heard the battleship's voice again. "It sure is. While I'm slightly annoyed at the lack of resources retrieved by your expedition, you successfully rescued a kanmusu in Abyssal territory. I must commend you for that."

Saratoga snapped off a small salute with her free left arm. "Thank you. I'll put Kirov in the docks, and we'll be back for debriefing after everyone's repaired."

The battleship Kirov assumed was IJN Nagato nodded and turned away. It seemed she was a busy ship, perhaps the secretary of this base? Saratoga turned, pulling Kirov with her. The Eurocruiser leaned her head on her steed's shoulder, letting the wind blow her brown hair about.

Saratoga led her down a peaceful path by the harbour. The grey form of the seawall encircled the water, waves lapping against the barricade peacefully. Her boots echoed with a dull thump on each passing step, amidst the rustling of leaves on the lines of trees beyond like a muffled heartbeat.

There were few other shipgirls out at that moment, and the sun was still high in the sky. Kirov wondered where they lived here; she wouldn't be surprised if the quarters were not underground bunkers.

Everything at Yokosuka seemed so...homey. _I'll be damned if something happens to this. The middle of a war for the survival of Japan, and very well the human race, but the personnel here still have feelings, live at least contentedly here._

Her thoughts paused as she spaced out, eyes roaming about the landscape again.

 _How has this not been obliterated yet?_

Saratoga led her inside a spacious white building. The docks, one of the most essential components of a modern Naval District. They entered through a wooden door, which led into what amounted to a locker room. Behind that were the docks, the Eurocruiser assumed.

Kirov noted that the docks seemed to be modelled after a traditional Japanese bath house. There was a large oval shaped pool in the center-far end of the hall, with smaller individual rectangular pools lining the sides. Separating the pools was a small ledge. Little black screens hung above each, and a thin layer of fog hovered over the ground.

"Just...stay here. I'll send someone to get you once you're repaired."

Kirov began to walk towards the nearest pool, on her immediate right. She hesitated just as her foot reached the edge of the hardwood floor.

"Is it alright for you to use resources to repair me?" she asked suddenly. The carrier accompanying her stopped before the door and turned.

"Yes. You're one of us, right? Anyone we rescue at sea, even if unable to help, is entitled to the right treatment until the situation is sorted out."

 _That's better than a lot of places I know._

She nodded, letting herself soak in the warm waters she found in the pool, the timer above her head lighting up with a 32:56.


	7. Admiral Mitsuwa

**Bit of a longer chapter this time. Thank you for reading, enjoy!**

 **-Aeroutak**

* * *

"Wake up, desu!"

Aroused from her slumber, Kirov became acutely aware of a white-robed battleship shaking her by the shoulders. She had exquisitely styled brown hair that must have been quite hard to put (and keep) together.

 _Fast Battleship Kongou,_ the bridge identified.

"Ei, Kongou," she began. "Kongou, that hurts…"

"Oh? Sorry, nanodesu," the battleship responded quickly, dropping her crushing grip on Kirov's shoulders. She paused. "How do you know me, desu?"

Kirov couldn't help a chuckle, seeing Kongou's grin replaced by a very confused expression, and shrugged in the water. "Technology. Well, I am awake now. Am I done?"

Kongou's face immediately brightened up again. "Mhmm, you're good!" She hummed. "Oh, Admiral wanted to see you. We'll probably get you something to eat first, though. You must be hungry, desu!"

Kongou stood up and tossed a white towel to Kirov. Holding the large cloth, Kirov hoisted herself out of the pool and quickly wrapped the towel closely around her body. Her hair fell back to its waist-long self, feeling rather heavy and laden with water.

Kongou walked over to a corner and picked up a large box. It was grey, and seemed to be made of metal, from its slight shine and tinny appearance.

It was set down on the wooden bench in front of Kirov, who pointed to it, puzzled.

"Is that mine?" She asked. Her companion nodded.

"Your uniform, and your other equipment. I have to say, they are very interesting, desu. I apologize for your coat. It was scorched below the knee, so we cut it to a ¾ coat instead, nanodesu."

Kirov shrugged. "It does not matter, really. I have been a little concerned about the range of mobility the full coat allows anyway."

She flipped open the two latched holding the box closed. Raising the lid, her eyes widened in surprise, then gratefulness.

The first thing Kirov was greeted with was her ushanka. It was repaired almost perfectly, and it showed no signs of the previous engagements. Below it was her folded coat, meticulously sewn back together. Her uniform had been washed, and boots shined. The steel in her boots felt thicker even, the fabrics more durable. It was almost as if they had been re-issued directly from Russia.

With a soft click, the wood and paper door shut behind Kongou. Kirov looked back at the bundle of repaired cloth in her hands, and hastily pulled them on.

She quickly poked around in her coat to locate a lump, which felt similar to a bottle.

 _I'll save it for a party or something._

With the weight of the coat once again on her shoulders, and boots echoing through the building, Kirov followed out the door Kongou closed.

"You look more casual than a lot of us do, desu."

"Muu. You are one to talk," Kirov retorted, eyeing Kongou's elaborate dress. The battleship grinned, and motioned for the cruiser to follow her. Kirov spun on her heel and briskly caught up.

She felt her mouth water when Kongou pushed open the doors to the mess hall and waved Kirov in.

It was like stepping off a plane to a distinctly different part of the world. The atmosphere immediately warmed, and an incredibly sensational aroma wafted over the place.

The battleship she had followed walked over to a row of counters, which seemed to operate as a serving line. Caught in a bit of a trance, the Eurocruiser simply stood still and appraised her surroundings.

There were rows of tables and chairs, neatly arranged throughout the room. It was well lit from the inside, entirely by the dots of white light shining down from the ceiling.

"Kirov!" Saratoga's voice reached her ears, and she turned to find the carrier waving at her from a table. A few eyes turned to face her, but she shrugged them off and strode towards the table across from her.

It was a modestly sized and circular table, not too small, and not very large either. There were a few other ships seated with Saratoga, and Kirov recognized most of them as from the patrol earlier. Seeing a few empty seats still left around it, she pulled one out and sat next to the American fleet carrier.

The introductions were as she expected.

"You're from Russia, right?"

"My namesake is Russian. I suppose you could say that, but I was built by four other countries as well."

"Hm? Which ones?"

"Ah, Britain. Germany, France, and the United each built certain components or entire systems for me, of their own expertise. My point-defense systems, for example, are from Germany, while my guided missiles are American."

She looked down at the table, pulling up a schematic of her blueprints and plans in her mind. These were to be kept secret from the rest of the world; each of the five countries knew this well. If her information, design, or specifications were disclosed, she, and her sisters, would lose their tactical advantages for the immense investment in creating them.

A tray of food was suddenly thrust into her vision, slid along the table by a Kongou wearing her signature grin. The girl was holding her own food on her right hand, and it was then she noticed that the other ships seated around the table had food as well, but had momentarily paused to listen to her.

"That's for you, desu!" Kongou said, likely noticing her pause.

Kirov shook her head and opening her eyes to dispel the blueprints. "A-ah, thank you, comrade. It's the most enticing thing I've seen in a few years, probably."

It was a welcome change from the combat meals the galley usually served. The tray effectively held three plates. One had a multitude of fruit on it; oranges, grapes and the like. A second had a nice variety of cheese and meat, while the third held rice, fish, and a few eggs.

 _This is...what they eat here? It's very extravagant, considering the war they seem to be waging at the moment._

The group went back to slowly eating as the girls seated around began to introduce themselves. The first to open up to her were the members of the patrol, grateful for her interception in the fight earlier, she reasoned.

Two battleships sat beside each other. The ever energetic Kongou, and the venerable American battleship Iowa. Both seemed to be enjoying themselves, and Kirov figured a feast like this was not normal after all.

A German heavy cruiser named Prinz Eugen, dressed in a dark gray, black, and blood red Kriegsmarine uniform. Kirov recognized her as the girl who caught fire during the earlier confrontation. Beside her sat a comparatively taller, but similarly dressed woman.

Battleship Bismarck, Eugen introduced her instead as the battleship was either very suspicious or very shy.

If it was the latter, then the usually quiet Kirov sympathized. She'd honestly prefer to work alone, but for the sake of her life she needed to stay behind a more durable ship.

It was hopefully not the former.

Three destroyers sat at the table too, but each was dressed differently. Kirov assumed they weren't of the same class, although she could tell they were all Japanese.

Fubuki, Mutsuki, and Yuudachi.

 _I haven't seen this much...joy anywhere before. This is not something money, or greed brings._

Kirov paused and looked around again. _Speaking of which, I wonder if the world, and the governments are still so secretive. Admiral always hated the fact._

"Eurocruiser-san? Are you there?" The Soviet jerked her head towards the light jabbing coming from her right arm. She shook her head quickly, realizing that she had spaced out in the middle of a conversation, and placed a hand on Yuudachi's finger.

"Yes, yes I am. My apologies, I simply tend to dream a lot."

"Hm," the destroyer responded, withdrawing her arm with a curious look. Kirov returned to her usual sitting position, and was just about to ponder her situation again when a sharp crack echoed through the building.

She jumped in her seat, a hand already beginning to give the signal for her riggings to appear, only to find Nagato in the frame of a wide open door, perhaps _too_ wide.

Those piercing red eyes roamed around the building, before their gazes found her and stayed there.

"Eurocruiser, come with me," the battleship commanded.

Was it normal for them to call her by her class name instead of her actual name?

Kirov turned to Saratoga, as if to ask if it was alright to leave, who nodded.

"I assume I'll see you all again. In the meantime, good day," she said with a small wave. Turning, she strode towards the waiting woman at the door.

"This is the Administrative Building?" she asked, expecting it to be the monumentous structure directly beside it. Instead, the Administrative Building looked like a small office building.

Nagato nodded. "That building over there's mostly a distraction, but it serves other purposes. How do you think this little office hasn't been shelled to the ground yet?" The battleship stepped forward and grabbed a hold of the glass door's handle, and pulled it. She stepped through.

"Admiral, I've brought her," she heard Nagato following a few rapid knocks on the big wooden doors. The Eurocruiser fidgeted slightly, not liking authorities in general.

Of course, _her_ Admiral was an exception.

She didn't catch the Admiral's response, but she assumed it was something along the lines of an acknowledgement. The black haired battleship waved her inside, before entering herself and shutting the door gently behind her.

The room was rather modest for an officer of such high standing. The Admiral sat behind a large oak desk, but even its bulk was dwarfed by the piles of paper hastily arranged around its top. His white hat covered a messy mop of black hair, the standard white officer's uniform hung on his form. As Kirov regarded the Admiral, she noticed he was typing furiously on the screen of a tablet, the light illuminating his hidden face under the cap.

Nagato brought her hand up in a swift salute, and Kirov quickly did the same.

"Good afternoon, Nagato, Kirov. At ease," the black-haired man said. The two women dropped their arms, and the Russian straightened her coat slightly so that it hung just under her knees. The Admiral stood, his eyes looked up, and offered his hand to Kirov.

She slowly took it, and shook.

"It's an honour to meet you, Sir," she decided to try. It would be helpful to start off on the right foot.

"Likewise," Admiral replied with a grin. She felt the atmosphere lift with that, and she relaxed her shoulders as well. "My name is Akihiro Mitsuwa. It's truly a miracle that we have you here right now. Perhaps you're in time to save us," he said suddenly.

"Fighting the Corrupted, from ten years back?" She recoiled slightly in surprise, but immediately recovered. Her mind randomly spit that out.

If Admiral Mitsuwa had noticed, he didn't show it. His face kept the smile it had worn since Kirov entered. "Corrupted? I assume you mean the Abyssals, the ones who attacked the patrol you came in with," the Admiral replied. Kirov tried to remember her foes that day, and nodded. "In that case, yes. You see, Japan's in a blockade, and Yokosuka's the only Naval Base able to support kanmusu."

She assumed the major naval bases, from when she was a ship, were destroyed or not suited for 'kanmusu'. Sasebo, Maizuru, Kuro. The nearest landmass was, of course, China, and the Russian peninsula Sakhalin.

Kirov assumed the blockade thickened there. The point of a blockade was to keep an area isolated, after all.

"Do you still hold the Okinawa Prefecture?"

Admiral shook his head with a sad smile. "We lost that place a long time ago. For all we know, the Abyssals could very well have a _superweapon_ there by now."

Kirov sighed and, realizing her posture, straightened her back again. "I have some questions for you as well," Admiral's voice spoke again.

"Ask away, sir."

The black haired man straightened behind his desk, bringing a very worn notebook towards him. He raised his head to meet Kirov's. "You're a modern ship, correct?"

"Da. Many of my systems are automated, and I myself operate from a protected central mainframe." There was a pause before Admiral Mitsuwa put placed a hand on his cap.

He opened his mouth to speak, before closing it again. "That means, uh, you're an artificial intelligence?" he guessed.

"Not exactly, sir. It only means much of me is computerized, and many of my abilities are electronic. The fact grants me many advantages, but has been proven to be a weakness as well." Kirov looked around for Nagato, but the battleship had disappeared. She didn't actually know what exactly she was herself, but the bridge said so and she trusted her bridge crew with her life many times over. "In case you have not already assumed, I'm physically not supposed to be here. I'm just a fluke."

Admiral Mitsuwa dropped his head, but lifted it shortly afterwards. "Don't think of yourself that way, Kirov," he said. "Do you think…"

The Admiral paused, seeming to struggle to find the words. "Will you work with us?" He finally asked.

Kirov nodded. "What else would I do? That was my objective here, after all."

She saw Mitsuwa's eyes flicker with a bit of realization, and knew he would remember that.

"Very good, then," and pushing a piece of paper and a pen towards her, he said, "Sign at the bottom. It'll grant you permission on military grounds, to fight with us, but not officially joining the Japanese Navy."

Admiral Mitsuwa sat back in his chair and heaved a relieved sigh as she picked up the pen and ran it across the paper, before retrieving it. "Alright, that's all for now. You're just in time for the day after tomorrow."

"The day after tomorrow?" Kirov asked. What was so unique about such a day?

From behind his desk, rising slowly, the Admiral grinned and clenched a fist. "Our own assault on the blockade. I'm tired of my base being pounded on, and with our forces stronger than ever, we'll give them something to think about for a change. At the break of dawn, we leave. At the break of dawn."

The Eurocruiser nodded. She'd prefer to stay at the base and get to know her new comrades but perhaps her old Admiral had known and planned this. She tried to recall any more, any further instructions, but her mind responded with the same blank, incomplete hole.

"You are dismissed, Kirov," Admiral Mitsuwa's voice cut through her thoughts. "Whatever you're thinking, do it outside of my office. The Fleet Admiral will be here tomorrow, and you should be rested."

She couldn't help but detect the bitter tone the Admiral's voice took on that last sentence as she saluted and pushed open the door.


	8. The Day Before

**Spasibo for staying with me and continuing to read and support this. Reviews are appreciated.**

 **-Aeroutak**

* * *

Nagato had been waiting for her outside, leaning against the wall in the hallway. The battleship's gaze was fixed outside, even as she nodded along to another woman beside her. The spectacled girl was dressed in an officer's uniform like Mitsuwa's, and had a pair of round glasses perched on her nose.

The woman held a small tablet in her hands, similar to the Admiral's. There were plans to be made, Kirov reasoned. That's what her old Admiral would say.

Before Kirov could quietly slip away, Nagato spotted her.

"Where do you think you're going?" The battleship sounded as authoritative as she always had, but Kirov could feel a hint of amusement in it. "Don't you want to meet Ooyodo?"

She felt heat flourish to her cheeks, and the Eurocruiser instinctively stared downwards. The window was behind her, and the light clearly outlined the faces in front of her.

"It's good to finally meet you," Kirov forced her head up as a voice cut through the silence. "I'm light cruiser Ooyodo, one of the base's strategists."

Closing her eyes briefly, Kirov returned the cruiser's introduction. "Eurocruiser Kirov. I hope we may work well together, even if apart."

Ooyodo laughed softly. "That's reassuring to hear. I'm sure everyone else here is glad to have you with us as well."

"We've decided to put you in the Second Fleet dorms for now. Until Admiral reorganizes the fleets, you'll be wherever you're needed, and that's the Second Fleet's responsibility," Nagato interrupted before Kirov could open her mouth. The light cruiser lightly jabbed the battleship's arm.

"Must we get to business so quickly?" Ooyodo paused and pretended to think. "Ah, I guess there's no helping it with you." Nagato snorted. "Follow me," the strategist said, turning sharply and cutting off the rebuttal that was no doubt already forming in Nagato's throat.

Outside the building, Ooyodo continued on the path Kirov and Nagato had taken before. The sun was somewhat lower in the sky, basking the cobblestone in its golden light, and giving the trees a beautiful shadow in their leaves. Looking over her shoulder, Kirov could still see the armory, and the bay. To her left, she saw her home: the sea. Past Ooyodo's rhythmically rising and falling form stood three long buildings. They looked like apartment buildings, and the Eurocruiser assumed they were just that. The dorms for three fleets, maybe?

As the three passed the first building, the path widened, leaving no grass between the buildings. Raised platforms were lined with trees, broken by the occasional single tree ringed by a circular bench.

A curved glass canopy hung over the main entrances, and Ooyodo turned into the little part between the buildings. The doors were facing each other, and it almost seemed as if the canopies were extended a bit further they could form a bridge. The light cruiser entered the center building.

Nagato held the door for her, and Kirov uttered a quick 'thank you' and stepped past the threshold. She was immediately hit by a wave of cool air. It was a completely different world in the building than outside; the air was cooler, and when her eyes adjusted to the comparative darkness, Kirov saw that it was quite like a hotel.

The three had entered a lobby of sorts, with a few tables and chairs. On the far end of the room were three elevators, and Kirov assumed each floor above was lined with dormitories for the fleet which resided here.

And of course, every now and then, her eyes found the occasional potted plant.

 _Admiral Mitsuwa really likes nature. Perhaps everyone here does too._

"Wait here," Ooyodo commanded, and Kirov found herself a spot next to the wall. She watched as the light cruiser rounded a corner, Nagato close behind her. There was nobody else in the building, or in the lobby for the moment at least.

Kirov gazed around, taking in the tall walls, the paintings, and the most elegant architecture she had ever seen. Interior-wise, of course. On the outside, the building looked fairly normal.

The cool air stirred slightly, probably from air conditioning or fans. The angles glass cast awkward, yet entrancing shadows and patterns onto the tiled floor.

Really, some of these things Kirov never would have even speculated belonged in a naval base.

"Do you know who we're fighting?" Ooyodo asked, "Honestly, Admiral should have given you the run down, so you should have an idea of our situation."

Kirov nodded, humming an affirmative. She periodically checked back with the bridge, confirming the boundaries and the fronts of the war.

"Alright, this will be simpler then. Here, the blockade is thinnest and closest in proximity to Taiwan," Ooyodo said, holding her tablet by the top. She jabbed a finger at a southern body of water a short distance from the Japanese islands. "From old charts, Taiwan is still Chinese and has a strong and well defended supply line to the mainland."

 _With enough effort and firepower, we can break it._ Kirov saw Ooyodo's underlying plea easily. _Help us defeat them._

"A scouting party of the area returned a day ago, the evening before you arrived. There are four islands in the vicinity, one rather large, and one large enough for a house." Ooyodo moved her finger and traced a path around the landmasses. Kirov watched and etched it into her own map, the lines appearing and the Admiral's plan slowly unfolding. Ooyodo continued, an apologetic tone lacing her voice now. "I'd wish for you to have more time to acquaint yourself here, but we'll still be at this base when you get back. Yokosuka is a base that has lasted since before the beginning of the war."

Her eyebrows scrunched, Kirov nodded silently. She wasn't used to talking, and doubted she ever would be. "T-then, am I going alone? I would get shot less if I could hide with a battleship."

Ooyodo stifled a laugh. "We saw you come in, remember. I don't think Admiral will ever put you alone. And yes, you'll be paired with Kirishima, who is with the rear guard. Hiei and Kongou are to your port, about six kilometers out. Mutsu will be ahead of you, with the vanguard."

The strategist paused, and Kirov locked eyes with her. "Make sure you rest properly, Eurocruiser. It's been a long two days, and I'd rather not have you tired on a combat mission so early on," Ooyodo commanded. "It seems you're not new to this world, but if you need help, Kirishima would be more than competent."

Nagato gave a curt jerk of her head in satisfaction. "You are dismissed, Kirov," she said. "Room 15, with the rear guard for you."

The Eurocruiser saluted. "Understood. Good day, Ooyodo, Nagato."

As she began to walk down to the room, Ooyodo called out back to her. "Be ready to meet the Fleet Admiral. We need to have ourselves and Yokosuka prepared tomorrow."

 _That's three people who have told me to get some rest. Perhaps it's for the best. And...this 'Fleet Admiral' sounds interesting._

 _I wonder what kind of person he is._

The halls echoed with the dull thumps of her boots on the grey carpet. With each passing lamp, a passing strobe of light, and a door. It smelled of plaster here, how a new and well kept building should smell like.

The plates on the doors flicked by her vision as she strode past, the numbers changing from the single to double digits.

And there it was, in front of her, its numbers glowing a mute bronze, the door marked '15'.

Kirov stopped just short of it, facing the wood and inhaling. Holding the breath, she tentatively reached out an arm and grasped the doorknob.

 _The door isn't going to open itself._

 _Shut up, bridge._

Her hand turned quickly, and the Eurocruiser leaned forward as she entered the room.

It was what it was. A big window facing the bay, with three bunk beds. A wooden desk sat in front of the window, flanked by cabinets and drawers.

The closets in the walls were closed, the patterns engraved on their doors well defined by the light.

From the window, the afternoon sun bathed the generally well kept room in a warm glow. Kirov did notice, though, that _one_ particular corner of the room seemed messier than the others.

The occupants turned to face her. One was bent over the desk, sitting in a folding chair and gripping a pair of tweezers in her hand. The other was on her bed, a map held in her lap.

Kirov smiled awkwardly, and gave them a weak wave. "G-good day, comrades...this is the rear guard, da?"

 _I've had enough introductions for the rest of this year._

The girl on the bed, dressed quite similarly to Kongou, spoke. Perhaps they were sisters?

"Hai, that's us." The bespectacled girl gestured to herself. "Kirishima, third of the Kongou class battlecruisers. It's good to meet you, I'm assuming you'll be joining us?"

Kirov nodded. "That I will be. Eurocruiser Kirov, it's a day for meeting people today. I'm looking forward to working with you, perhaps in the attack the day after tomorrow?"

The Kongou-class battlecruiser seemed surprised. "Yes, we'll be there. Although, you've just gotten here, are you sure you're ready?" Kirishima paused, glancing back down at her map. "I hear from the scouts it'll be a rough one."

"Don't worry about me," Kirov said, shaking her head with a grin. "I've just gotten here, but I don't think it's in the way you believe I did."

 _News sure travels slowly here. That's weird, in the time it took for me to get to this room, word would be everywhere back home._

The Eurocruiser looked for a place to sit, and having no belongings, she stood in the doorway rather stiffly as her eyes searched for a crate, a chair, anything to sit down on.

Finally, her eyes came upon a folding chair leaned against the wall. She strode over, and placed a hand on it.

As she began to lift the wooden chair, the girl at the desk spoke. "I'm here too, Kirishima," she said plainly, arms crossed casually over her chest.

Kirishima sighed. "Kirov, this is Atlanta. She's good friends with Hood, as they both like tinkering with things nobody else here even understands." Kirov waved at Atlanta, who'd loosened up in the wooden chair.

"As long as you know who I am, and I know who you are." She turned and resumed picking at the mess of steel and wires with the tweezers in her hand. "I second Kirishima's words."

"Likewise," Kirov replied. She peered over the desk at the cruiser's weapon, and past that to Kirishima and her map.

Atlanta glanced up and turned to Kirov. "By the way, what's a Eurocruiser, Kirov?"

The Eurocruiser in question closed her eyes, and sat still for a moment. "I'm the second of the class. We're a heavy artillery ship, a secret joint project between five nations," she paused. "Missiles, as many as you want. Although a few good shots will light any of us up pretty quickly."

Atlanta's grin widened. "Don't you think about it, Atlanta," Kirishima cut in. Kirov whipped her head around, pulling her hair in close so that it wouldn't sweep Kirishima across the face, and gave the battlecruiser a quizzical stare. "She likes fire," Kirishima said simply.

Kirov nodded in understanding, unsure of what to do. If she was staying here, might as well figure out how things work.

"I'm going for a walk, is that alright?"

"No problem," Kirishima replied.

"Go right ahead."

Uttering a quick "Thank you" Kirov pulled open the surprisingly heavy door, stepping into the colder, fresher air of the hall.

She decided to explore outside first, her legs finding the direction she'd headed from before, and to her left the open and airy space of the lobby opened up in the side of the hall like a balloon.

Outside the glass, she could see the sun still in the sky; and Kirov reasoned that she still had a few hours, at least.

Pushing open the double doors, the Eurocruiser broke into a jog, anxious and wanting to cover more distance. The fleet barracks were behind her, and the Administrative Building with its big barricade were coming up fast beside her. The trees' leaves almost seemed to glow in the light, and the stone path echoed with her footsteps.

There weren't many ships around, and those that were enjoying the afternoon on a bench or walking paid little heed to her. Someone running down the paths was probably a normal sight, as fitness was important as a soldier. Even if said soldier's primary transportation method was skating over water.

The armory was visible from her position, and in front of the stout building was a sprawling structure of steel. They resembled docks, but seemed more like practice areas. As she passed one section, she could see targets set up on the far side, the scaffolding dented in a few places where a shipgirl had crashed or misfired.

The sound of gunfire was strong, the heavy thumping probably audible from far outside the base's perimeter. With a quick glance at her radar, it showed only a few ships around, with no "Abyssal" signatures.

Releasing a breath, Kirov continued down the path, now appearing to glow a warm gold as the sun slowly inched downwards. She was passing by docks, each segment set up slightly differently.

The scaffolding cleared her vision, and Kirov peered into the bay. There were three girls there, their weapons all poised at the targets beyond which lay the open ocean. She walked up to the seawall, and sat down in the grass to watch them.

One seemed to be a carrier, but unlike Saratoga whom she'd seen launch planes from her flight deck, this carrier held a crossbow of sorts. She still sported a flight deck, but it seemed that she preferred, or was only able to recover aircraft with it.

The other two, with a bit of observation, Kirov recognized. From the mess hall that Kongou brought her to, she saw the same golden shade of hair, the same grey and red uniforms.

Battleship Bismarck and the heavy cruiser Prinz Eugen. Kirov looked to the sky, watching the white puffs of clouds slowly blow past for a moment. And suddenly, they were joined by black shapes, and the low crack of flak cannon. Narrowing her eyes, Kirov studied the soaring objects, then realized that they were held up by strings, just aerial targets.

As the carrier's planes hit the targets, which dropped below the waves and reappeared elsewhere, fighters and lines of tracers rose into the air, probing for the targets set at a multitude of elevations.

As she stood, she could hear the ships' faery officers barking out gun corrections, target positions, and regular reports on equipment and the such. Normal things that were needed to keep a ship in order and fighting.

"Kirov! You're here!" Caught off guard by the sudden voice, she jerked her head down, slightly jumping and moving back. Her eyes fell on Prinz, her blue eyes sparkling and trained on her.

Kirov managed to smile awkwardly as her mind tried to free itself from its initial shock, and began to drop her head in a nod.

"Come join us! The armory is just over there, in case you uhh, forgot. I remember when I was new here, it's a pretty big base and it's easy to get lost here."

Tilting her head, Kirov shrugged. _Why not? I should get to know the other two as well...I don't need an armory._

"That won't be necessary, comrade," she replied. Prinz's face dropped, but she quickly recovered.

"O-oh, you must be busy. I'm sorry," the cruiser apologized, and moved to turn back.

Realizing what her words must have sounded like, Kirov instinctively stuck her hand out and motioned for Prinz to stay. "Ah, I wasn't...specific enough. I'll join you, but I'll need you to move away a little first."

Prinz arched an eyebrow, and in the background, Kirov could see the carrier and Bismarck break their whispering and give her a questioning look. Nonetheless, the heavy cruiser complied, with the battleship and carrier in the back taking a few steps backwards as well.

 _Well, it helps to not be soaked in the sea. It gets cold quickly._

Deciding that Prinz was distant enough, she stepped onto the seawall and raised a foot to leap amidst a chorus of exclamations. Kirov closed her eyes, her blueprints appearing behind her eyelids, and then transferred them to her riggings. She felt her guns weight in her shoulders, and her propulsion clamp onto her legs.

As the water came up beneath her and the blue fragments of her summoning the riggings disappeared, Kirov twisted to her left and dug her feet into the waves as if on ice, performing a hockey stop.

She straightened, hoping that she didn't spray anyone too horribly, but none of the shipgirls in the dock seemed like they'd even been touched by the water she'd kicked up. That was good, she guessed, especially since her propulsion came on full forward by default.

"Eurocruiser Kirov, weapons at the ready," she recited, from her old trials. The training ammunition shouldn't be too different from here, just shells with no warheads.

And she stood still, willing her engineering divisions to keep the engines at full stop.

The carrier smiled, and nodded at her. "It seems you know what you're doing. First armored carrier, Taihou. Care to stay and train with us?"

"Eurocruiser Kirov. I've already agreed, haven't I?"

The shorter carrier let out a quick laugh. "Ah, I suppose so. Do you carry any aircraft, Kirov?"

The Eurocruiser gave her a thumbs up. "Three combat variants of the KA-29 scout helicopter. They aren't really much for air to air combat though, since they are still scout helicopters."

They had proven reliable enough in her warship days, but that could change quickly, with aircraft so much smaller now.

"Can I see one?"

"Of course," Kirov answered immediately. She raised her right arm, and let the platform unfold before the flight crews wheeled the newly repaired helicopter onto the tarmac that was her stern.

 _Helicopter One, permission granted for takeoff. All aircrews please clear the deck._

Taihou leaned in to watch, and as the helicopter's blades whirred to life, the carrier clapped with glee.

The evening was almost... _normal_ after that. Kirov walked with her newfound comrades back to the Second Fleet building, to the Rear Guard. With Kirishima and Atlanta in tow, the six ships talked and poked fun at each other until their legs had carried them down a kilometer of path, and Kirov had found herself at the mess hall again.

This time, she had bothered to check the resupplying, and nearly choked on a piece of bread.

"Ha," Saratoga had wheezed, relaxing after Atlanta'd come out with yet another apparently ribcage breaking joke. "I kn-Eurocruiser! What's wrong?" The carrier turned at the source of irregular coughing, and found Kirov red-faced and more than a little exasperated. The Eurocruiser, having recovered, wiped her mouth and sat up again.

"It's nothing big, comrade," she'd assured Saratoga. When the carrier gave her a probing stare, Kirov sighed and added, "Two battleship standard meals, and I've resupplied a third of my missiles and a fifth of my missile defense ammunition."

* * *

 _I should really try to get some sleep,_ Kirov thought plainly. The only bunk that was left was on the bottom, and with a flurry of apologies from Atlanta, she shrugged and replied that she didn't mind, especially with the small window beside the bed.

It gave her a spectacular view of the harbour, and all the facilities. It was dark outside now, and everyone else had fallen asleep long ago. For the Eurocruiser, there were simply too many things running through her head at the moment to even close her eyes for more than half a minute.

 _Evidently, I was human even before I was sent here. I remember Admiral, the machines, and a_ bed _. That explains why I can't remember anything before landing, since the capsule freezes its occupant in order to accelerate faster. But it doesn't give me answers as to why I don't have any records of things before that, and but I can remember sinking as a warship still._

 _So what happened since I died, to the time Admiral sent me here?_

She shook her head, turning in her bed and redirected her stare at the dimly outlined silhouettes of Atlanta and Taihou.

 _I'll just...try to be prepared. The Fleet Admiral, I'm assuming of Japan, will be here tomorrow._


	9. The Fleet Admiral

**Well, it's beginning to ramp up here. Chapter Eight, thank you for reading, reviews are appreciated. Good day, comrades!**

 **-Aeroutak**

* * *

Kirov awoke to a flurry of movement outside of the world within her head. She shut her eyes quickly again, hoping to catch those last fleeting moments of sleep, but she'd already been pulled too far.

Sighing, she reached an arm into the agonizingly cold air and rubbed her eyes.

Blinking against the light, Kirov peered around the room. She saw Atlanta staring out of the big window behind the desk, Kirishima scribbling in a notebook. Bismarck was sitting on the edge of her bed looking unamused and a little dazed, and to be honest, Kirov felt the same way.

The Eurocruiser propped herself up on her elbows and sat up, with the blanket still draped around her. Closing her eyes to bring up her HUD, she paged through it until the four blue numbers that represented the time blinked into existence.

 _6:42!_

She looked outside, and the time certainly fit, with the sun barely clearing the horizon. While it was a majestic scene and Kirov appreciated the view, she simply just wanted to climb back under her blanket and make up for the two hours she'd lost the day before of lying in bed, wide awake.

"W-why are we up so early?" she asked, stifling a yawn.

Kirishima looked up, looking almost reluctant. "The Fleet Admiral is coming today, Eurocruiser. He's, uh," she stuttered, looking for the right word. "...demanding," the battleship finished.

"That's a good thing, no?" Kirov responded. "It's good to be prepared."

The battleship suddenly became silent and an uncomfortable silence draped over the room, before Atlanta took over in a similarly disgruntled voice.

"Not this way. It's good to be prepared, necessary even, but this is, er, being prepared in the wrong way."

 _The wrong way?_

Kirov narrowed her eyes, finally nodding slowly in her confusion. "What are you doing now, then?"

"Working out the details of the attack," Taihou answered from above Kirishima. "You don't really have to do anything, since we're unsure of how your equipment responds to Abyssal presence. Remember, their fogs scramble radar. We're going to test your capabilities first, and like me, we'll stay back to provide cover fire."

Humming her affirmative, the Eurocruiser then stood up, pulling her coat on. She'd kept her other clothing on throughout the night, being too lazy to change (not that she had a change of clothes) and not having a place to put them. Atlanta explained that they hadn't been expecting another member so soon, and promised she'd get Kirov a drawer in a day or two.

Kirov stepped onto the first rung of the ladder to Prinz's place on the bunk, and found the cruiser reading a book.

Not wanting to disturb her, Kirov slid silently back down. Placing her ushanka an her head, she walked behind Atlanta and tapped the heavy cruiser's shoulder.

"I'm going out for a run, alright?"

Atlanta nodded, but she looked worried as she turned. "Be swift, though. Breakfast will be at 0700, and the Fleet Admiral will be here at 0900."

* * *

There were a small number of ships outside at that moment, and as Kirov passed the docks, she saw that the training grounds were empty. The paths were devoid of people except for the occasional passerby, and the skies had taken on a grey coat as a rainstorm began to set in.

The sun had cleared the horizon now, and its light pierced the clouds near it, turning them a blood red hue.

She'd checked the armory, expecting to find the base's resident mechanic who she'd forgotten to meet yesterday, but the large workshop was completely silent as well. Perplexed, the Eurocruiser closed her eyes, and panicked before doing the math and realizing she still had just short of four minutes to run at full sprint down to the mess hall.

Slamming open the door and letting it fall closed on its own, she ran through the light drizzle that was beginning to pelt down from the sky. And so when Kirov burst through the doors of the hall, she was met with a few curious glances of ships wondering why she was so late on an important day and why she hadn't taken the indoors route.

Kirov half-stumbled out of the doorway as she let her breath return to normal, and then turned to join the rather small line near the serving tables now. Wiping what water remained on the surface of her coat off, she asked for the usual amount of food she had: two battleship rations, the equivalent of four cruiser rations, or the rations for two platoons of a conventional army.

Saratoga had pretty much claimed a long rectangular table for the support divisions of Second Fleet, the ships who stayed at the back to provide fire support or air cover. The vanguard and flank teams sat with them too, today, at the tables surrounding Saratoga's.

"My apologies for my late appearance," Kirov offered as she sat down. Taihou gave her a smile, and Saratoga shrugged.

"That's no biggie. As long as you can finish...that," the American carrier replied, gesturing with her hand towards Kirov's plate. Other than that short burst of conversation, nobody was really in the mood to talk, and everyone stayed with their thoughts for breakfast.

 _What's the special occasion? Surely the Fleet Admiral isn't that bad, I doubt someone like that could even be in a position so high in command._

Silently, as the ships began to finish their meals, and plates and cutlery began to return to the bins on carts waiting to be washed by the kitchen staff, the Second Fleet began its journey to the gates of Yokosuka Naval District.

Initially puzzled as to the purpose of the journey, Kongou explained that meeting the Fleet Admiral at the gates was a formality, even if in the rain. It was similar to welcoming an ambassador from a foreign nation, but perhaps a little more _hostile_ here.

Evidently, there were some grudges held against that Admiral.

Forming into lines, the thoughts that had been kept silent began to slip out in whispers, and Admiral Mitsuwa had to hush the naval forces as he walked in front of them on the tarmac, under an umbrella he carried himself, telling Nagato to stand with the rest of First Fleet.

At the rear of the formation, Kirov saw three block patterns. The far left, First Fleet. Center was Second, and the far right was Third Fleet. The ships saluted their Admiral, and Kirov followed suit.

"Good day, ladies," Mitsuwa began, eliciting a squeal of excitement from a destroyer somewhere in the Third Fleet block. The Admiral chuckled, but it felt distinctly hollow to Kirov. "As you all know, Fleet Admiral Hyotaru will be arriving here shortly. I expect you all to be the soldiers you are, and not cause any trouble for this base or High Command."

"The briefing will begin after Hyotaru is acquainted with the base again. And...I do not want a repeat of three years ago. Fleet Admiral Hyotaru is not a man who tolerates such things."

At that moment, as if on cue, the steel gates in the concrete wall ground open, and a luxurious limo slid nimbly through.

 _That's_ not _a military vehicle._

The doors clicked open one by one, and a wad of security stepped out before one of the men reached in and helped a round-faced officer out of his seat. Admiral Mitsuwa turned to the entourage, and saluted the officer who Kirov presumed was the Fleet Admiral Hyotaru.

The brown haired man, clad in a black dress uniform decorated with medals and gold trim, saluted Mitsuwa as well, albeit slightly lazily and with a bored expression on his face.

The two men dropped their salutes, and Kirov swore she caught Mitsuwa flash a glare at Hyotaru.

The Fleet Admiral, with his security positioned protectively around his car, clasped his hands behind his back and began to make his way to the center of the tarmac where Admiral Mitsuwa had stood a moment ago.

The shipgirls, who had raised their hands in salute again, dropped them and Hyotaru began to speak.

"Well, I see this place has _changed_ somewhat since I was last here," he said in a slightly rasping voice, and Kirov nearly choked from the man's inability to hide his stares at the troops mustered before him. "I'll be here for the next three critical days, and will be overseeing the operations of this next expedition to break the blockade. I hope you will not disappoint me, and bring victory to me at the smallest cost to me possible."

 _You alone don't own us, Mitusuwa's there too. Speaking of the Admiral, he's right behind you and looks ready to stab you in the back._

Admiral Mitsuwa's face was reddening by the second, his eyebrows pressed together with either anger or hatred, Kirov couldn't tell. Even with his repeated attempts to suppress it, the red hue kept growing; until he held up a hand to speak.

"I believe we shall continue this inside. Fleet Admiral, sir, please follow me to the Administrative Building and leave the damp frigidness of this rain."

"Very well," Hyotaru responded, and stepped into line behind the Admiral. Kirov had a feeling that Hyotaru knew the base well, and was simply following through for sake of formality.

The shipgirls walked behind them, in rows of five as to be able to walk on the paths.

Kirov could not bring herself to agree with the Fleet Admiral's words as they marched towards the growing Administrative Building with haste.


	10. State of Mind

**Thank you for reading, everyone! Your continued support means a lot to me.**

 **-Aeroutak**

* * *

The War Room was rather small compared to many of the facilities at Yokosuka Naval District. However, the chamber still comfortably housed the almost two hundred-ship strong force that Yokosuka Naval District was the operating base for.

Admiral Mitsuwa tapped his watch, lighting up the board behind him with a map of scouted positions and sea lanes. There were red lines representing Abyssal positions, the thickness of the lines symbolizing the amount of expected resistance.

There were thin blue lines, old shipping lanes. And there was Japan, cut off on three sides by a thick red line and on the fourth by Abyssal-held ocean. It was pretty similar to the situation she imagined by compiling everything Admiral Mitsuwa and Kirishima had said the day before.

"Your mission," Hyotaru began, "Is to eliminate the threat of the Abyss. Our first step here is to break through the blockade currently enclosing Japan. With the power of the current fleets, we've been able to hold our own for a time now.

"However, supplies are beginning to run short. In the past, Japan has been the world's largest importer of coal and second largest of oil. We've few mineral resources, and the development of our country as well as this fleet's upkeep has taken a large toll on the stockpiled materials.

"In order to continue the fight against the Abyss, you will attempt to reestablish communications with mainland China through Taiwan. The blockade is the only obstacle in the seas as of the moment."

"China's Defense Perimeter is still secure, and combined with the Red Navy, I've deduced that Taiwan is still in human hands. In the event that it is not, you are to turn for the coastal city of Taizhou," Mitsuwa added. Kirov shifted uneasily under the suffocating silence in the room, and she knew what each ship would be thinking.

 _Who will die tomorrow?_

She had felt it too many times herself, being built just as the Abyss emerged from the depths of the Pacific. It was always painful when someone you know became someone you once knew.

"The Admiralty has unanimously agreed to attempt to split the Abyssal forces again. You are to engage and destroy the main battle fleet, hopefully crippling the Abyss long enough for Japan to gather strength."

Mitsuwa placed himself on the right side of the screen as Hyotaru spoke. Picking up a stylus, he drew a roughly triangle shaped formation, spearheaded by a single battleship. Cruisers were arranged in a wedge behind it to provide support but at the same time being able to draw protection, and destroyers were kept in the center, safe until within a reasonable range for a torpedo dive.

"Each of these battle groups of First Fleet combined with Second Fleet support are to lance into Abyssal lines, breaking them into smaller pieces. Third Fleet will cut them apart, and the destroyers in the center of each formation are free to torpedo any survivors at that point. Cruisers and battleships, you are to never stop shelling until they're all dead. Understood?" the Fleet Admiral finished, turning to face the bulk of the shipgirls, his features demanding.

The War Room sounded with sporadic affirmatives.

Fleet Admiral Hyotaru nodded. He then scanned the room, seeming to look for someone. "Admiral Mitsuwa. I believe that I've received word of a... _modern_ ship in your possession, correct?" he inquired, his eyes not leaving the rows of ships seated.

Mitsuwa nodded numbly, throwing a warning glance at Kirov.

"That is correct."

"Would you be so gracious as to bring her to me afterwards? I'd like to have a word with her."

"Not a problem, sir," Mitsuwa answered immediately, although Kirov could easily hear the discomfort at the thought.

Which, in turn, made her shift uncomfortably in her chair. The rest of the briefing was just a lengthy explanation of timing and movements, the coordinated break into the Abyssal lines and at which points to do so.

"For our newest ship. I'll need her to use her missiles as barriers. Fire two salvos to divide the Abyssal fleet into thirds, and keep them apart. That will leave an opening for our conventional fleet to break through."

Of course, all relying on earlier scouts, some as long as three weeks ago, she'd heard. So Kirov sat back in the wooden chair, and looked back onto the world map on her HUD, plotting distances, bases, and unit positions as the officers' voices droned on in the background. The Eurocruiser usually disliked the idea of plans in general, but she acknowledged the fact that they had saved her a few times.

"If I may ask, sir, who will defend Yokosuka while we are on sortie?" A question caught her attention, but the Eurocruiser kept her eyes closed.

Hyotaru smiled. "That will be in the hands of our very own JMSDF. Do not worry, the base will be in good hands."

* * *

She quickly opened her eyes as she began to hear shuffling and the scraping on chairs as ships stood. The Eurocruiser stood then as well, sweeping her hair so that it wouldn't puff out with the pressure of being sat on so long.

Deciding to spare Admiral Mitsuwa an intercom call and herself another walk, she parted ways with Kirishima and Atlanta. Turning towards the board, she coaxed her suddenly numb legs into carrying her behind Mitsuwa.

"Ah, there she is. Don't like to keep me waiting, do you, Eurocruiser? Mitsuwa here's told me so much about you," Hyotaru said, placing a hand in his subordinate's hair and ruffling it in what was probably his perspective of affection, or hatred, depending a lot on who you asked.

Kirov lowered her head and glared at Hyotaru, but chose to remain silent.

Hyotaru put on an expression of mock surprise. "Oh my! How so suddenly hostile! I _am_ the Fleet Admiral after all, the commander of all naval activity in Japan! You can trust me," he turned to Mitsuwa.

"I think I'll take her."

Hyotaru stared back at the Eurocruiser, who was still standing rigidly and flashing the Fleet Admiral a death glare. Kirov arched an eyebrow.

 _What do you mean?_

In response, Kirov simply stared back at him, eyes beginning to narrow.

"I'm the one whose fleets keep the Northern perimeter secure, after all."

 _What considerable Abyssal force could even stay up there that long, with the Motherland on patrol?_

Kirov attempted to keep her face straight, however couldn't help but flinch at the decidedly lewd glances Hyotaru kept throwing her way.

Mitsuwa only turned to Kirov.

"I have a mission myself, if you don't mind," she ground out, already knowing Mitsuwa would be doing most of the actual commanding in the thick of action. Kirov doubted Hyotaru could actually effectively fight a fleet of his own. "My purpose here, as stated by my previous Admiral, is simply to help you out of your current situation. To be honest, I didn't imagine a person such as you so high in the chain of command."

Hyotaru appeared almost as furious as Kirov at that point.

"This is an order, Admiral Mitsuwa. You will hand her over!" He nearly spat as he uttered those words.

Mitsuwa's face had gone pale white, as if someone had dusted chalk dust all over it. The Admiral stared back at his superior, and then slowly turned to look at Kirov.

The Eurocruiser gave a slight, but defiant tilt of her head, and closed her eyes. "I will not."

"Why you-"

"That is enough. Both of you, back to your quarters. Fleet Admiral, sir, I'll show you to yours. It is likely that if you pressure Kirov-sama too much, she'll simply refuse to fight."

 _I wouldn't, but spasibo for the save, Admiral Mitsuwa._

Hyotaru bit his lip, and taking a few breaths, visibly calmed down as his head returned to a more normal hue, still tinged with red. He nodded silently, and followed Mitsuwa.

Kirov sighed, dusting herself off. She knew that Hyotaru did indeed have pretty much absolute power in Japan, with the Navy so vital to Japan's very existence. The Eurocruiser turned towards the door, and took a step.

And suddenly, her head was filled with thoughts, strangely organized thoughts.

 _That's not what Admiral told you to do. I'll repeat: Your mission is to assist Japan in its breakthrough of the front. You have directly resisted the command of the highest-ranking, and likely most powerful man in Japan at the moment._

 _Hyotaru says that he's patrolling the Northern border, and that he has a fleet under his command. Meaning that first, he has direct control over a second Naval District, and second, he has considerable influence to be able to control said base and fleet. From what he's shown me today, he is likely incompetent in command. Which leads me to wonder what the ships he has under his control are for._

 _Ah, why won't you listen to me? I am the one who is supposed to be you. You should be listening to me, Eurocruiser Kirov. I was created as you, and I still am the intended you. Even you said it; you yourself are just a fluke. You...were never supposed to be_ sentient.

And so when Kongou wandered in a quarter hour later, looking for a missing Kirov, she found the Eurocruiser arguing with herself, likely passing for insane.


	11. At the Break of Dawn

**Slightly late update, but here it is. If a few things don't make sense as of the moment, don't worry, these loose ends will be addressed in the following few chapters.**

 **Thank you for reading; reviews and feedback are appreciated!**

 **-Aeroutak**

* * *

Kirov had about two hours of sleep that night. She'd been arguing with her "supposed self" until the Eurocruiser relented and literally told the entity to shut it, before falling into a light sleep.

She still didn't like the voice, but it sounded monotonous, and did not stray from the mission guidelines even a sliver. Anything not somehow connected to the blockade, the voice took in disdain. And as such, Kirov felt it almost...programmed. The voice never spoke of things a normal person, say a student, would speak of; the weather, what was for dinner. It only seemed to care for its own goal, which happened to coincidentally be the same as Kirov's.

And Admiral's mission, for that matter.

"Eurocruiser-sama! Wake up! We're going to be late…" She woke this time to a tugging at her coat, and found Prinz pulling it.

Today, when she looked out her window, the sky was still pitch black, a screen devoid of any light for the clouds still hung above their heads.

"Late for what? This is even earlier than yesterday," Kirov yawned. Kirishima looked at her, while Atlanta smirked at the door.

"Today's the day we're sortieing! At the break of dawn, Kirov. They won't be able to see us, especially when the Abyssals carrying radar are taken care of," the American light cruiser replied.

Blinking, Kirov stared back until the events of the last three days hit her with the force of a hammer. She uttered a nearly inaudible "...oh," before rubbing her eyes and reluctantly dragging herself upwards.

The morning was somewhat less tense that day, and the usual chatter at the mess hall had resumed at breakfast so early in the morning. The armory was full by 0300, and the First Fleet was first to launch at Mitsuwa's command.

The First Fleet battleships, cruisers, and destroyers sailed past the reinforced doors and formed into the triangular battle positions that had been drawn up yesterday. Kirov watched, and as the ships moved, she could easily see the high spirits everyone was in.

That would be good, even key to the upcoming battle.

Second Fleet was next, being the supporting fleet, and the launch rails, cranes, chains and pieces of rigging clicked into place as ships slid into the bay. As she stepped onto the rail, and the cranes whipped around again, Kirov felt the pressure of her rigging settle onto her back. The heavy chains lifted, and her propulsion kicked into three-quarters full.

Her shortsword clasped onto the heavy belt just above her hip, and she felt for the small communications computer on her ear again.

Her ears were met only with a faint crackling.

 _Still nothing, huh? I hope I hear from you soon, Admiral..._

Kirishima, Prinz Eugen, Atlanta, and Bismarck were already in the bay. Taihou would be one of the last to launch, being an aircraft carrier. The Eurocruiser's bridge crew reported positions of the ships assembled, the feed updating with every sweep of her radar.

"Eurocruiser! Good to finally see you back on the sea!" Atlanta greeted her.

"Ja, your presence is a reassurance to all of us," Bismarck affirmed.

Kirov chuckled. "Spasibo, but please don't speak of me so highly. We don't even know if I can fight if we encounter the Abyssal's fog."

Both Bismarck and Atlanta shrugged. "You still have guns, right? They fire HE?" Atlanta asked. The Eurocruiser nodded. "Good! That means you can spam HE with me and burn them all, even without missiles."

The light cruiser's mouth contorted into a wild grin, and Kirov nodded quickly again, for lack of anything better that would not upset the cruiser. Kirov would prefer not to anger a cruiser that could cook her over her own decks. With a blip on her HUD moving quickly towards them, she turned to see Taihou steaming towards them. The carrier waved, which the rear guard returned.

"We're almost done with launches. Third Fleet's just beginning, and they shouldn't take long since they're mostly destroyers," Taihou said.

"That's good," Kirishima replied with a small smile on her face as well. "I suppose we should get into formation then. Everybody, get behind Bismarck-sama and me."

Stepping sideways, the six ships formed into two lines of three, with the battleships arranged at the front, behind them the cruisers, and at the back Taihou and Kirov. And with the completion of Third Fleet's launch, an old Morse lamp atop the armory flickered, signalling for the ships assembled in the bay to raise steam.

"We are going to try to minimize radio contact now," Kirishima said. "So the only times radio is permitted, for now at least, is if something unexpected turns up. Which I'm sure, they will."

Kirov nodded, even though the battleship hadn't turned and probably couldn't see the gesture. Her reactor hummed contentedly, and as Eugen pulled away from her, Kirov had the bridge put her into three-quarters ahead once again.

* * *

The sun still hadn't risen, but her radar had been picking up Abyssal fleets for some time now. On her HUD, they showed up as red blips, however the Abyssals, similar to the shipgirls, were all similar in size and so almost impossible to differentiate between classes.

Of course, she could make out less humanoid Abyssals such as the I-class, and unique Abyssal ships such as their Wo-class carrier with its large headpiece.

Kirov turned her head, peering into the open expanse of darkness, the waves disappearing toward the horizon. She couldn't see her comrades, the night still covered them well. Turning back to see the reassuring sight of Taihou, Eugen, and Atlanta in front of her, and Kirishima and Bismarck's heads in front of that, Kirov let out a small sigh.

Saratoga's battlegroup was just off to starboard, about ten kilometers in front of them too. Yet, when on a clear day, even in a storm, she should be able to make out their silhouettes. There were standing orders to not engage any Abyssal fleet, but if it was unavoidable, to sink the ships as quickly as possible in an effort to conceal their position.

 _Good luck with that, our gun flashes probably will draw attention from somewhere as far as the Japanese home islands._

Her HUD appeared behind her eyelids again when she checked, and Kirov took note of the positions of her allies. It helped if friendly fire didn't sink anybody. As she sailed behind Eugen, Kirov heard a few disgruntled mutters as a wind roared over the sea, and she struggled to keep her hair in check as her eyes hastily opened and readjusted to the darkness.

The water seemed darker beneath her feet, but perhaps that was simply an illusion, or they had sailed across deeper waters. Shrugging, the Eurocruiser bent at the knees to lessen the wind and steamed on, in the safety of the combined fleets of Yokosuka Naval District at her side.

* * *

Kirov detected the defenses of the blockade about twenty kilometers out. She alerted the rear guard, and contacted First Fleet, who must have been closing near gun range by then. Her radar showed nothing more than a mess of ships, scattered in a line ten kilometers long, four lines thick. In the center of it all, standing some distance to the back, was an abnormally large Abyssal.

Battleship Princess, Kirishima had identified when Kirov described the radar's shapes.

And the fog, the horrible fog that seemed to scramble her radio and radar, making both ridiculously hard to understand.

At the very least, neither seemed offline or going absolutely haywire yet. She'd been aware of the fog that large Abyssal fleets tended to bring along, with explanations from Atlanta, Kirishima and Taihou. Kongou and Saratoga both replied, when questioned about it, that they could not see through it either, with Saratoga's planes unable to fly within the thick fog and Kongou only able to shoot what she could see.

 _My radar is still functioning at reduced effectiveness, so hopefully my missiles still work somewhat, blin._

Admiral Mitsuwa's voice crackled through the fleets' radios then.

"I've been alerted to the Abyssal presence ahead of you. From our scouts, that is in fact the main body. You have full permission to engage. Remember the plan, and good luck to you all. Admiral Mitsuwa, out."

With a final burst of static, the transmission ended and the fleet was left in silence again. Kirov turned her head, and with mixed feelings saw a strip of red hug the horizon. Without the cover of darkness, the battle was sure to proceed much more quickly, and possibly in the wrong way.

"Trust your training. Stay with the plan, and we'll correct it as necessary," Nagato finished. "These are the monsters who've killed thousands of people with their actions. This is for them! Fight for them, and let us destroy the Abyss together!"

Taihou raised her crossbow, letting fly an arrow with white fins, the rising sun embroidered on each.

The tip of the armored carrier's arrow caught fire, and the projective vanished into a squadron of six iconic A6M Zeros.

Seeing the coordinated launch of the other carriers' air wings as well, the Eurocruiser raised her right arm and let her three helicopters take to the sky.

The first shot came abruptly. Its report heard distinctly five kilometers away. Kirov saw the muzzle flash and the bobbing motion of the gun, silhouetted against the dark sky.

Immediately afterwards, other salvos followed, casting a rain of lead upon the unsuspecting Abyssal fleet. In that initial volley, Kirov saw a few explosions and fires light up the night sky, which was still just glazed over with a faint red from the east.

However, the Abyssals simply fielded too great a number of ships, and the Fleets' adversary quickly recovered from the first salvos.

Kirov closed her eyes, letting her missile crews choose their targets.

 _Unsure if missiles will hit their marks. Targeting is fuzzy, and locks are hard to find._

Her weapons officer sounded somewhat worried, but he quickly regained his composure.

 _No worries ma'am, we do have locks, but there's not telling how the missiles will react with the fog there._

Kirov sighed, letting her gaze fall to the water below her. Gunfire still cracked in her ears, and shells lanced through the sky devoid of stars. She pulled her head back up, and cut her engines to one-half forward.

Waiting until she had fallen behind the rear guard, Kirov raised an arm.

 _We'll never know if we don't try, comrade Boris. Open silos._

 _Yes, ma'am._ She heard the weapons officer chuckle.

 _There's the Boris I remember._

The Eurocruiser laid her eyes on a blurry shape in the distance, six tracered shells arcing away from the Abyssal's guns. She opened her mouth, and took a deep breath.

"Sound the salvo bell! Огонь!"

The newly replaced salvo buzzer sounded with a series of metallic dings, and the warheads she'd been stockpiling for the last two days slipped out of their bays in her rigging, and ignited their thrusters to push away from her.

Fins turned, and the missiles rotated in the air, casting a wide turning trail of fire behind them.

As they accelerated away from Kirov, she saw the weapons peel away from their trajectories and fixed themselves on different targets before disappearing into the fog, only faint trails of their exhaust visible through the darkness.

There was a small pause as the ships all waited for the flashes signalling her missiles' detonations against Abyssal steel.

When none came, the fleet breathed a sigh of exasperation; but the shipgirl divisions still seemed to be in the fighting spirit.

Eugen had lined up another shot in front of her when two explosions rocked the seas, and her HUD registered two hits from her radar.

Two confirmed hits.

Eugen fired her own guns, quickly followed by hundreds of guns on both powers.

The fleets seemed like great beasts, spitting fire at their hulks in an attempt to whittle the other down until the last.

The Eurocruiser's job in this engagement was to cut said beast to pieces.

"Weapons officer Boris! Retarget the missiles to fire down two lengths, bearing 200 degrees and 193 degrees southwest! We'll keep the volley up for about two minutes, until the battleship formations can make it to the Abyssal lines!"

Said charge would be the winning move, hopefully. With the Abyssal formations broken and disoriented, the cruisers and destroyers of Yokosuka Naval District would be able to simply blow individual Abyssal ships apart with ease.

 _Divide and conquer,_ her old Admiral used to say.

Behind them, more clouds of flame rolled skyward, and a cheer arose from the shipgirls before a battlecry sounded and the First Fleet formations brutishly advanced as fast as their battleship spearheads could sail.

The order given, Kirov felt her back relax under the strain of her riggings.

"Fire at will!" It seemed the Eurocruiser wouldn't have to call on her speed and maneuverability here, with no shells inbound on the radar.

Her radar became a lightshow as the triangles of shipgirls lanced into the Abyssal lines, and her missiles flew continuously, as quickly as they could be stuck in their silos and armed, almost as if they were chasing the pinging of her radar. Kirov saw the destroyers break off and run in for the kill on the separated and disoriented Abyssals, with red dots fading out of existence on her HUD.

When she opened her eyes, Bismarck and Kirishima had led the rear guard forward, and the Eurocruiser was able to see the sporadic gunfire and explosions herself. A Ru-class battleship tried to put up a fight, her six guns trained on six separate in their sponsons.

That was until a light cruiser jumped and shot her in the eye, the Abyssal curling up and shielding her face. The battleship's wail of agony was cut short as a hail of gunfire came raining down on the poor Ru-class until she was nothing more than a twisted steel wreckage.

 _Ah, war._

She looked away, until her eyes found the largest signature on her radar. The Battleship Princess, who only seemed mildly irritated, at the most.

As Abyssal naval power was slowly whittled away, decaying under a constant hail of fire, Kirov received a transmission from Third Fleet.

"Abyssal surface fleets successfully contained. Setting course for Taiwan. Over."

The fleets breathed a sigh of relief. The first objective completed, but the mission was far from a success. The Battleship Princess, while cornered by a sea of destroyers and cruisers, was still hurling iron outwards as fast as they were hitting her. As Kirov watched, she could still see occasional explosions as one of the Battleship Princess's shells caught the unlucky cruiser it destroyer who'd moved too slowly. So far, the battleships who had been hit were still afloat.

 _Ah, all missiles, retarget on the Princess. Attempt to finish her off as quickly as possible._

 _Understood._

The last of her missiles left her silos, and a new salvo clicked into place. Their glowing trails arcing away from her, she watched as the lines converged into one single point in front of the Battleship Princess…

...and promptly fell into the water.

 _Что!?_

"Kongou! What happened, comrade?" she radioed the fast battleship, whose battlegroup was one of the first to attack. Kongou took a moment to respond, but her transmission reached Kirov a moment later.

"The Princesses and Demons carry that fog with them, representing a major Abyssal fleet. It disturbs radar, and I assume your missiles dropped for they were too close to the source, Kirov-sama."

The Eurocruiser sighed, still on the line. "I'll leave her to you then. It seems that I am unable to attack these...Princesses." Kirov resisted sneering; it was quite unfair to her that these monsters were allowed to just perpetually carry what amounted to personal chaff around them.

She looked back at Taihou, then at Prinz as the cruiser turned her head.

"They'll be fine, Kirov. Have trust in them," the German heavy cruiser assured. Kirov only nodded in response, the water frothing around the ships' propulsion units.

Kirishima's voice crackled over the frequency, but was one of deep thought. "We may have won here, but I cannot shake the feeling that this was most definitely _not_ the main Abyssal force. If it isn't, we've completely missed our objective."


	12. After The Storm

**Ah, quite short this turned out to be...**

 **The next chapter will be out shortly. Thank you for reading everyone! Reviews and feedback are appreciated!**

 **-Aeroutak**

* * *

"We've sunk at least a couple hundred ships here, Kirishima-san," Taihou responded. "What makes you think that?"

There was a pause as the fast battleship gathered her thoughts. Gunfire rang in the distance, and periodically Prinz, Bismarck, or Atlanta let loose a shot at the Battleship Princess in her cloud of radar-scrambling protection. "That Battleship Princess was the only Princess here. Scouts have reported at least three sightings on their sorties. Also, these couple hundred were mostly cruisers and destroyers. From reports on the part of the other fleets, they've only encountered a minimal force of battleships."

A long silence filled the radio, only static breaking the otherwise completely dead line. Kirov turned her gaze to the red-streaked skies in discomfort, and tried to ignore the ongoing fight only four kilometers away.

"...they wouldn't know of our attack today. This plan was to be kept completely hidden from Abyssal eyes, and the JMSDF made sure of that. I'm confident we've completed the mission, as soon as we defeat the Battleship Princess," Saratoga pitched in, but the quiver in her voice contradicted her words. A squadron of American Hellcats flew over them, before quickly departing to escort their bombers again.

 _Spasibo for checking on us, comrade Saratoga._ A timid warmth struck her, and Kirov smiled softly, knowing that there still were caring people in the world.

"Let us just finish off zis monster, ja?" Bismarck attempted to amend. There was a hum of agreement over the radio, and the crackle of gunfire redoubled. Kirov raised her arm to let one last salvo of her 180 millimeter shells at the Battleship Princess, and commanding her foreward six missiles to fire as well, for good measure.

The fleet's shells, some of them tracered, fell in a great show of lights and fire. With different calibers, the guns fired shells with different trajectories, and the sky became crisscrossed with the white trails of naval rifle fire.

The Battleship Princess let out no shriek of fury, no defiant claims, instead opting to die silently, a small smile appearing on her face.

She disappeared in a roar of fire and smoke, an explosion bulging tens of meters into the sky, chasing that damned fog away. As the sky cleared, light shone clear again, through normal clouds and atmosphere.

"Combat over," Nagato reported. "Returning to base."

There was no response from the Naval District.

The water cleared, and with the sun now rising in the sky, the waves glistened under the shipgirls' feet as they turned towards home.

Third Fleet would well be on their way.


	13. The Second Wave

**Battle here will be slightly one-sided, apologies for that. However, certain things needed to play out for the plot to move forward.**

 **This beginning was somewhat rushed, but with reason. Thank you for staying with me and reading; reviews and feedback are appreciated greatly!**

 **Have a wonderful day, comrades.**

 **-Aeroutak**

* * *

Yokosuka Naval District was on fire.

Every ship in the fleet recognized it immediately. As the girls approached the Defense Perimeter, they could identify a red tinge on the horizon. The Eurocruiser would have enjoyed the day otherwise; the pale blue sky, a light breeze, few clouds and excellent visibility. Quite a nice day for sailing, not taking into account the burning of their home port and only resupply point in the background.

The horizon, however, stood out with a wave of flickering blood red paint. Tall plumes of smoke reached into the sky, and the distant thunder of guns reached the ears of the ships of First and Second Fleets.

They were muffled, but they were there.

Without need for a spoken command, the fleets accelerated, the slower battleships straining as their screws churned the sea, frothing behind them in wakes that shook the destroyers and cruisers near them.

 _Abyssal signatures. Of great quantity. At least four carrier battle groups._

The bridge reported, and her HUD blinked correspondingly. Kirov silently praised whatever greater power there was that she had missed another round of radar-scrambling fog.

Without a Princess or Demon to guard against Kirov's missiles, they would be able to take full effect. Perhaps even an advantage, as low-lying layers of smoke filled both friendly and enemy eyes with water, and gun directors had difficulty calculating distances and making corrections.

 _Ah, there are just a few things I should clear up at base first._

"I'm returning to base. Any ships that would like to follow me are appreciated," she announced. The Eurocruiser attempted to comb her brown hair back behind her ear, with little success. It seemed that the smoke had taken its toll.

"I cannot allow that," Kirishima replied.

"Agreed with Kirishima. Everyone is staying here until we destroy the Abyssal fleet at sea," Nagato commanded. The tall battleship was at the center of First Fleet's formations, and was acting escort to some of the slower carriers.

"It's simply too dangerous for you in shore, Kirov," Kirishima added. We can land on Yokosuka as a combined force later."

The Eurocruiser shook her head, well aware that Nagato wouldn't take notice of the small gesture. "My riggings can be removed in a much shorter time than any of yours. Also, my newer radar could prove more useful there than here, as it works indoors quite well."

 _Actually, I just want to poke around Mitsuwa's office for plans and charts. That is, if we cannot reclaim the District. Nobody needs to know that, though._

Kirov heard Nagato heave a sigh from her end of the radio. "What do you intend on doing on shore?"

"Destroy the shore based defenses if they are hostile, eliminating a large portion of firepower directed at the fleet. I'd also like to check on the situation there, Secretary," the Eurocruiser lied. In the event that the base was entirely lost, she'd direct the ships that followed her to retrieve as many resources, ammunition and fuel from the warehouses as possible. "In short, a large force would warrant too much attention. With the possibility of the harbor defenses against us, and a potential for a large Abyssal presence on shore, I would personally prefer not to risk that."

"There is sense in that statement," Kirishima agreed. "With an early warning radar, a small force with the Eurocruiser could avoid unnecessary contact with a much larger Abyssal force. While a large force with her would be harder to coordinate, as well as hide."

Nagato fell silent on the radio as the fleet continued to sail onwards. Without the familiar wireless chatter, Kirov's ears registered the soft swishing of the ocean, and the sound calmed her involuntarily tensing mind.

"I'll permit you to go. However, you'd better return to us alive, Eurocruiser. It would be of incredible assistance if you could retrieve fuel and munitions, as well as steel, as many ships have reported low ordnance and many are in need of repair," the secretary ship decided. "Your force will rendezvous with us at sea, if the fighting here has not ceased. If we are able to win here and make it to land, we'll resupply there."

It was not hard to arrange a task force to arrive ashore and collect supplies. Somewhat slow at first, but after Eugen and Bismarck had volunteered, a steady stream of other ships joined the Eurocruiser as well.

Hearing of the nature of the operation, Kirov saw that a number of auxiliary ships had joined them as well to assist with ferrying supplies.

The Soviet heavy artillery ship grinned, and raised her arm, hand balled into a fist.

"Then, let us strike here, and reclaim Yokosuka Naval District!"

Voices rose from the formations of ships, their steady hymn growing louder and their chanting faster until a battlecry emerged, soaring above the drone of machinery and splashing water. There was no fog here, but the smoke plowing through the sky was thick and it made the ships' eyes water, their breathing laboured.

"Fire at will! Landing forces, follow our Eurocruiser! Focus the Abyssal carriers, and we'll join them on land once the sea is clear!" Nagato's voice thundered from the center of the First Fleet formations, the radio shaking with the fury as the battleship roared. Kirov looked up, and through the film of water on her eyes, she saw the weakening, flickering light of the sun through a shroud of black smoke.

The Eurocruiser turned back, and lifted her arm, and pointed at the burning mass of Yokosuka. Waving her small force forward, she bent, and twenty-two ships raced for the harbour, and the warped form of the armory.

 _At the Admiral's command, for the Motherland!_

The stone walls of the harbour seemed cold, and the shadows of the smoke cast an eerily dark camouflage over them. The task force had made it halfway into the harbour when a light cruiser to Kirov's starboard pointed at the walls with a panicked expression dominating her face.

"E-Eurocruiser-sama! There!" she yelled. Kirov turned her head, struggling to see what the girl was pointing at. "The wall, and the hills behind it! The shore defense batteries are _tracking_ _us!_ "

This time, Kirov caught the glint of sunlight off a great many barrels. _Where'd they come from? I saw none when comrade Saratoga brought me here, blin!_

"Comrades, scatter! Keep moving, and try to not take any shots!" she commanded through her radio, and the group broke apart, Eugen choosing to stay beside her.

The guns barked, and jets of flame rolled from their dark barrels.

 _They've taken the base, then?_

Near misses rocked the girls in the harbour, and two ships suffered hits from the batteries places on the hills.

"Light damage."

"Multiple overpenetrations, nothing vital is damaged."

Threading their way across the waters that were impaled by the plumes of water that tried to grab them, the ships sighed as the armory became discernible from the rubble surrounding it.

The blast doors were closed, their metal jaws interlocked.

"Permission to blow that door open?"

"Granted. Fire at will, and take out those shore based defenses while you're at it," Kirov responded.

The main batteries of the ships threw jets of flame at the reinforced door, cruiser and battleship secondary guns hosing the seawall with small caliber shells.

It wouldn't put the shore defense guns out of commission, probably wouldn't even scratch the well-defended coastal batteries, but the suppressing fire kept the bigger guns silent for a time.

That time was all that Kirov needed, for her missile crews to find their locks on weaker points in the armory and fire said missiles.

Her ordnance disappeared into a cloud of fire and debris, another plume of smoke rising to join many others in the sky. The doors warped and bent, Kirov's small task force slammed into it, elbows and arms poised to resist the impact.

The steel gave way surprisingly easily; its burnt frame groaning as the ships barrelled through it, the familiar but damaged interior of the armory visible as lights clicked on.

"Who are the auxiliary ships with us today?" Kirov asked, regarding her surroundings with both vision and radar, guns trained on the door. "I'll need you and an escort to rush the warehouses and retrieve as many supplies for the fleet as we can."

"Us," came the reply, from a girl. She motioned to another ship of similar height and build, both clad in war-torn uniforms. They appeared almost civilian, but she identified them as merchant cruisers from the cranes on their riggings and arms. "We were in the Atlantic convoys, this will be simple," she added confidently.

"Very well. You," the Eurocruiser pointed at a group of destroyers to her left, "escort them and make sure they are safe. Radio me if it gets ugly."

The destroyers nodded.

She turned back, and faced a group of cruisers. "You're our heaviest force. Search the base and rescue any survivors, and watch for any communication from the Japanese Diet."

A flurry of acknowledgements. Secure supplies and last minute communications, rendezvous with the seaborne fleet, and retake Yokosuka.

Sounded like a plan, but the only problem with plans being they tended to shatter when you hit your enemy in the head with them.

The Eurocruiser unsheathed her shortsword, with the Red Star embedded in its hilt. She wedged the blade between the door and frame.

 _Admiral, I'm trusting you that the quality of your swords are greater than the quality of your transports._

 _I'm never volunteering to use that capsule again, blin._

"The rest of you, with me. I have things I'd like to retrieve from the Administrative Building."

With a push of her arms, the Eurocruiser pried the door open and ushered everyone through, riggings and all. Breathing a quick sigh of relief, she stepped through herself, slightly damaging the wall squeezing her guns past the comparatively tiny frame, but the base probably was going to require major repairs to even be operational again anyway.

"To your objectives, comrades! Best of luck to you all!"

The ships broke into three groups, the merchant cruisers making a beeline for the warehouses. She saw the cruisers angle off towards the large concrete block of a building, its hulk now crumbling with multiple shell impacts.


	14. Why Do We Fight?

**The next chapter is done!**

 **Thank you for reading, comrades. Feedback and reviews are appreciated!**

 **-Aeroutak**

* * *

The Administrative Building seemed lonely and vulnerable with its shield in such disrepair, and the tumbling stone that rained occasionally from the fortified bulk were probably sufficient to crush the little structure if one large enough were to land on or next to it.

Chunks of debris littered the once neatly organized tiled floor of the building, the glass doors now shattered and scorched. The Eurocruiser gripped her weapon, and motioned for Prinz to come up beside her.

"You've been here longer than me. Are there any rooms with ordnance and small arms here?"

The heavy cruiser shook her head. "Other than the Admiral's safe, which I think has a pistol in it, not that I know of."

Kirov took a deep breath. "Alright."

Raising the steel blade, Kirov stepped into the hallway, her radar echoing through the building.

 _Nobody down this hall? That's strange, I thought the Abyssals would have swarmed this place first._

Lighting wasn't a problem, but none of the electrical installations were online. The underground cables had likely been severed. The sunlight filtering through from the windows and _holes in the walls_ would have to suffice.

"Bismarck, you can stand up to a few shots, da?"

"Vat do you think I am? Of course!"

Kirov smirked. "Good. If you don't mind me asking, will you be willing to plow into the command room for us, and then fire off all your guns?"

Bismarck chuckled. "Ja, gladly. You will follow me?"

Kirov nodded. The command room was her target, and before the Admiral's office.

Bismarck stepped in front of her, and Kirov stumbled backwards in order to let the battleship's much larger aft rigging and funnel past. Eugen came alongside Kirov, and the rest of their hastily assembled task force brought up the rear.

The Command Room turned out to be underground.

 _As appropriate a place as any, I suppose. It must be quite protected from seaward strikes and bombings._

Bismarck raised an elbow, and covered her mouth with it. The German battleship shifted her left foot back, and heaving herself forward, rammed into the door. Kirov shielded her own mouth as a cloud of dust rose from the cracked walls and splintered timbers that once formed a slab of moving wood called a door.

Waiting for the familiar reports of naval rifles, she'd stayed right behind Bismarck.

None came.

"Comrade Bismarck? What is the matt-"

The battleship moved aside so that Kirov was able to view room.

It was a relatively nice room, as was everything else on base, it seemed. A large chart table was in the center of the room, made of wood, with cushioned seats around it. A wall of radios dominated the right wall of the command room, and the left housed a radar screen as well as a HUD, similar to hers. A fancy light illuminated it.

If not for the instruments within, Kirov could easily have mistaken it for a hotel room.

But that wasn't the cause of Bismarck holding fire, unless the German really liked radios or charts or fancy rooms.

The command room was occupied by four figures. Three Abyssal heavy cruisers, and Fleet Admiral Hyotaru.

The Fleet Admiral was sitting in the radio operator's chair, a headset fit snugly on his head. He swivelled as he heard Bismarck slam through the door, and smiled with his arms spread as if expecting a hug on a day where war was an anomaly that didn't exist.

She turned to Bismarck, hoping for an explanation of any sort in the battleship's expression. She felt Eugen and the other cruisers' breaths catch in their throats, and then the subtle clicking of shells loaded into gun breeches.

The expression on Bismarck's face gave her half of an answer. There was a twisted mix of horror and anger, both dominated by a general confusion.

 _Ah, so this isn't normal. He must be a traitor. Well, the good news is, I know exactly how to deal with traitors._

 _I expected as much,_ she added silently after a moment of thinking.

"Ah, how very nice of you to join us, Bismarck! I see you've brought our Eurocruiser and your friends too!"

Kirov turned to Bismarck and have her a blank stare.

 _This wasn't your own plan, was it?_ She wanted to ask, but Bismarck, still frozen in her tracks, provided more than adequate of an answer.

"Oh, this must have come as a surprise to you. Come, take a seat," Hyotaru motioned to the chairs arranged haphazardly around the chart table. There was a small amount of blood smeared on the furniture as well, when Kirov took a closer look.

"My apologies, but I believe we'll stand."

The Fleet Admiral sighed, letting his smile drop. "Very well."

He dropped his arms when Bismarck came to her senses and her massive guns swivelled, a turret pointed at each of the targets and potential targets in the room.

"I assume you have a few answers for us, Fleet Admiral?" Kirov continued, ignoring the Abyssal units in the room. They seemed to be relatively friendly for now, if you could consider them "friendly".

"It depends on the question."

"Who are you working under? Who directed the Abyss here?" She paused. "It would be very nice if you if you also explained your existence in this room with three Abyssal cruisers."

Hyotaru grinned. "I expected no less from you. However, I am afraid that I'm not at liberty to answer you…"

Before Kirov could open her mouth to retort, Bismarck slammed a hand on her rigging.

"Vat do you _mean,_ 'you cannot answer'? Do you _realize_ what this entails?"

The Fleet Admiral's grin only widened, but in it Kirov still saw that infuriating smugness that seemed to follow Hyotaru wherever the man went, and whenever he smiled.

"That's something for you to decide," the Fleet Admiral replied, still reclined comfortably in the office chair. Kirov's forehead wrinkled in thought, but it returned to normal quite quickly as a multitude of footsteps sounded outside, followed by a few squeals.

The Eurocruiser whipped her head around, and past the shoulders and heads of her escorts, her eyes fell upon the helmeted figures of the JMSDF. She felt no relief at the appearance of the Self Defense Forces, the soldiers poised with their firearms levelled at the ships.

"You've lost, Eurocruiser," Hyotaru spoke behind her. "Mitsuwa was always something of a fool."

The Abyssal guns now trained on her, Kirov felt a searing pain rise from her body. It wasn't a wound, no, the guns had so far lain silent. She came to recognize it as a boiling hatred of the officer in front of her.

 _This infiltration has gone much too far._

 _I must alert the other forces, but I doubt I can get a signal through here with Hyotaru at the controls._

"I wouldn't count on that, Fleet Admiral, sir. It's just as likely that you've lost."

 _I can't harm the Japanese troops. They are only following orders; and the action would contradict my own._

Hyotaru stood up, his white uniform crinkled with the creases of sitting down for too long. He shot Kirov a cold stare as she turned to face him again.

"Goodbye, Eurocruiser. It's a shame you wouldn't join me. Your technologies shall be much appreciated yet."

 _No choice._

"Comrade Bismarck, sink them. Destroy the Abyssals."

The battleship nodded, and before Kirov could communicate with the other ships, Bismarck's guns barked, leaving two Abyssal cruisers clutching their abdomens, slumped against the wall, and the third obliterated by a magazine detonation.

The crackle of gunfire sounded outside, Bismarck's massive naval rifles the prelude to automatic small arms fire.

With any threat inside the room disposed of, Kirov ushered each and every girl behind her into the communications room.

Hyotaru had (much to Kirov's displeasure) slipped away in the midst of the JMSDF fire. Of course, _how_ he did so exactly, nobody caught.

There simply wasn't a trace of him, no clothing remnants, no strands of hair.

Eugen and a second cruiser were leaning limply against their hastily thrown together barricade of the door, both breathing heavily.

"Move away from there, if the JMSDF decides to shoot a few rounds through that door, you'll be hit," Kirov instructed, bringing two chairs for the cruisers to slump down on.

The remaining ships pointed their armaments at the ruined wood that was the door, hidden by a strangely organized pile of chairs and desks.

The ships waited quietly in the room, none feeling the need to breath even as the supposed enemy knew very well where they were.

As the JMSDF placed charges on the exterior of the barricade, Kirov's eyes glazed over. Bismarck, standing rigidly beside her, dropped her position and watched the Eurocruiser closely.

 _No, Admiral said to_ help _Japan. Fighting the JMSDF is the definition of the opposite of your mission._

 _I must. We'll die here if we cannot._

 _Admiral's orders. Your mission objective here, anyway._

 _Does it matter? Look, I don't know who you are, I don't really care, but we_ must _fight! Hyotaru is a traitor, and I'm sure the soldiers outside are acting on their orders as well! Lives are lost in war, but we_ will _be aiding Japan against whichever treasonous officers are occupying positions of authority!_

Something snapped there, and the 'program' as Kirov took to calling it, ceased its arguments. The world came back into focus, but slightly too late.

The dots representing the JMSDF units had already begun to withdraw to cover.

"Comrades, get to the far corners! Overturn the chart table and hide with me behind it! The door will blow, and when it doe-"

The girls had already gotten the gist of it. Eugen and Bismarck flipped four chairs, their thick padded seats angled towards the door.

The destroyers had crowded into the corner opposite the radios, shooting off the heavy billboard and letting it fall in front of them.

A group of heavy cruisers were in the process of flipping the chart table with Kirov when the telltale yell of "Take cover!" rang from the other side of the well, followed in quick succession by a "Blowing charges!" and a bright light, accompanied by a deafening thud.

The immediate explosion had achieved its goal of destroying the door. The shrapnel, as well as the flying remnants of the makeshift barricade blew across the room.

Thankfully, the thick wooden billboard had saved the destroyers. Eugen and Bismarck both suffered a small number of cuts, and the chart table had protected Kirov and the heavy cruisers' midriffs.

At least their powerplants and munitions would be safe.

None of the cruisers reported heavy damage, but Kirov heard a few sharp inhales as hot metal shards ricocheted off exposed legs.

Bismarck, Eugen, the destroyers, and a few lightly damaged cruisers quickly lay down a rapid suppressing fire as soon as a shadow moved in the rising dust of plaster and concrete.

The more unfortunate cruisers were able to remove the debris from their flesh with the assistance of their faery crews, model-sized wood scaffolding crisscrossing their legs, repair crews working furiously to keep the ships fighting.

Repair at sea had always been nerve-wracking. Perhaps this would technically be considered land, though…

The gunfire gradually died down, and as Kirov and Prinz stepped out of the room, they saw the fallen bodies of a number of JMSDF soldiers.

They were definitely not the only ones present before, so it stood to reason that the rest had been called to fall back.

Kirov heard a few wails from the Japanese ships present, and she looked down to see Prinz's eyes rimmed with water.

"T-these were the people we were supposed to protect," the heavy cruiser said shakily.

"And now their blood is on our hands," Kirov finished. Prinz Eugen nodded slowly beside her, as the other ships slowly acknowledged as well. "Let me ask you this. Have you ever asked yourself, 'Who is the enemy? Why are we fighting?'"

Bismarck shook her head in the rear of the glob of ships. The shipgirls that hadn't broken down yet gave her their own responses, with mixed results. The Eurocruiser turned away from them, and jabbed a finger at the stairway at the end of the hall.

"Me neither," she shrugged.

"The next objective here is Admiral Mitsuwa's office," Kirov commanded. "We'll rendezvous with the other forces at the armory."

Deciding that the chart in the command room was scorched beyond recognition by small arms fire and shrapnel, the Eurocruiser left it in pursuit of time. The hike upstairs and through a maze of hallways left the entire force breathless, with the exception the destroyers, who seemed perfectly content zipping around at increased speeds.

Kirov's radar had picked up a number of Abyssal units, and in order to avoid further action, the task force had taken a detour around the third floor of the Administrative Building.

Mitsuwa's office seemed strangely untouched. The door was still in pristine condition, though dulled by the dust of plaster and concrete. When Kirov reached out to grab the handle of the wooden door, it felt just as heavy as it did just a few short days ago.


	15. The Admiral's Office

**Another chapter done. How are you all?**

 **Thank you for reading; reviews and feedback are appreciated!**

 **-Aeroutak**

* * *

A few days that now felt like an eternity.

The interior of Admiral Mitsuwa's office was in similar shape to the halls outside of it. One of the big windows had been smashed, the wall opposite it riddled with bullet punctures. The group of warships filed into the room, and Kirov immediately walked over to the Admiral's desk and kicked it, eliciting a series of gasps and a "Eurocruiser-sama!" from Eugen.

Her foot had struck the wood below the drawers of the desk, which should have been solid.

The panel of wood had caved in under the pressure of her kick, and the center had splintered, revealing slivers of a steel case within.

"What are you doing?" One of the two destroyers with them questioned, the girl's face panicked.

Kirov managed a strained smile at her. "Ah, do not worry. Consider this...gathering intelligence."

"Why here, in Admiral's desk?"

She tapped her radar located above and just behind her head. "Radar. They said something was in here."

A few more blows, and the wood gave in. Kirov bent down at her knees, and grasping the edges of cold metal, pulled the safebox out and left it on the desk's surface, scattering papers still left onto the floor.

A jab with her sword yielded no apparent progress in opening the thing.

 _Something more blunt, or a firearm._

Sweeping her eyes around the room, the Eurocruiser's gaze finally found itself on a black handgun, hidden away in a mess of papers.

She could only see it as her earlier attacks had revealed the inside of a bottom drawer.

Hefting the gun, Kirov suggested that the rest of her force step back for a moment.

More 'strongly recommended' than 'suggested'.

 _I don't know what model this gun is, but hopefully it's somewhat high powered._

Pointing the muzzle at the top of the shiny box, slightly dented from the attempted incision of her sword, Kirov flipped what she guessed was the safety down, and pressed her finger against the cold steel of the trigger.

As her eyes recovered from the muzzle flash, the Eurocruiser saw the aftermath of her shot. She'd succeeded in her goal, with the top face of the cube buckled and crumbling in its center.

However, it seemed that the bullet had also torn through a few layers of...paper.

The one time she actually _wanted_ the damn papers, she shot them.

Sighing, the Eurocruiser pulled out a document and laid it out on the desk. Smoothing out the first paper she'd removed, one folded into thirds, Kirov held it up and scanned the page. Her eyes narrowed as they took in the hurried kanji, struggling to make sense of it.

Perhaps being fluent in the language first would have helped.

"Need help, Eurocruiser-san?" The destroyer from earlier ran up to the desk, peeking up at the paper on her toes.

Kirov couldn't help but grin, and nodded in response. "It would be appreciated, spasibo." Handing the paper to the shorter girl, the Eurocruiser picked up Mitsuwa's overturned chair and sat down, watching the destroyer carefully.

When the girl's eyes widened, their brows nearly jumping onto her pale forehead, a chorus of questions erupted in Admiral Mitsuwa's office before Kirov could ask one herself.

The destroyer suddenly seemed stuck, and closed her mouth before opening it again, no discernible sound emitted.

The girl shook her head, and denying her now wild hair any attention, spoke up slowly.

"I-it's a letter," she began. The other ships glanced at each other, a few brows pressing together in thought. "From the Prime Minister of Japan."

Silence.

"L-look inside the box, m-maybe?" The destroyer stuttered, gesturing at the safe Kirov had shot open. "There-there's supposed to be a special radio that can re-receive special transmissions."

Furrowing her eyebrows, Kirov rushed to the desk, neglecting to pick up the once again fallen chair, and began to peel off the papers still remaining.

Lifting a final document, Kirov found what the letter had specified: a small, flat sheet of metal. The Eurocruiser pried it from the box, and experimentally turned the knobs a few times.

There was a display in the center, and the device hummed with some sort of energy contained inside of it.

Hopefully it wouldn't die quickly. With no apparent response, Kirov gave up and set the radio down. Glancing at the destroyer again, she inched closer when the Japanese girl seemed to stare at the paper as if it were blueprints for a completely foreign machine. It might as well have been, when the destroyer turned the paper and Kirov saw a mess of scribbles and schematics and labels, none of which gave her any hope in understanding them.

The Eurocruiser's head jerked upwards as she heard a crack, and the window violently shattered, spraying the office's occupants with shards of glass.

Opening her eyes, Kirov saw a line of bullet holes in the wall adjacent to the door; a few inches to the right, and they would have struck one of her cruisers.

"I strongly suggest we move to the rendezvous, Eurocruiser!" Bismarck yelled in reply to the short burst of machine gun fire.

Kirov nodded, and with the consent of the other ships, she tucked the radio in her coat as well as the rest of the letters.

"Alright! Make your way out of here as quickly as we can; your objective is to make it to the armory! Go, comrades, I will be in touch with you on radio and radar!"

Bismarck wasted no time in _ripping to door off its hinges_ before storming through, a flotilla of cruisers and destroyers following her. Prinz Eugen stayed behind with Kirov.

"You won't be coming?"

"Nyet, I will. Just...let me," the Eurocruiser grit her teeth as she tightened the clasp around her midriff tighter, hoping that it would keep the contents of her coat inside. "...tighten this," she finished. "Let's go."

With a small smile at Eugen, Kirov broke into a sprint after the ships already long gone down the stairs. The German heavy cruiser shrugged, before running after the Eurocruiser, disappearing down the staircase as well.

"It's clear," Kirov reported, pulling her surroundings apart with radar. "Move ahead."

The armory was in sight, the concrete box having seen better days. Static faded into a broadcast, and the ships of Kirov's group breathed a sigh of relief as word came through that the supply group had made it back to the fleet. The Eurocruiser could feel a collective sigh of resignation when the force belatedly added that one destroyer had been lost to an encounter with an Abyssal task force.

The force jogging at a comfortable pace beside the seawall, multiple blips suddenly popped onto her HUD. "Hold on," she muttered, scanning the buildings ahead for their adversaries.

Kirov squinted against the sun, yielding no success in trying to get a visual on her targets. She closed her eyes completely, and with another sweep of her radar, the Eurocruiser nearly keeled over, her heart beat strong and fast in her ears.

"...fall back," she mumbled.

"Pardon?" A British cruiser asked from her starboard, leaning on the stone form of the seawall.

Kirov cringed at her HUD before completely dispersing it behind her eyelids. "Hostile units...JMSDF and Abyssal units, a lot of them, blyat. We must fall back, comrades," the Eurocruiser repeated. "At another beach, another coast, we may fight again, in our domain."

The quiet agreements were cut short by flashes of yellow.

She didn't look back as the reports of large-caliber guns thundered behind her, their shells throwing great plumes of earth tens of meters into the sky.

She didn't look back as shell impacts rocked the earth around her, the already ruined Naval District suffering even more abuse as the ground caved in around the force of warships.

 _Permission to take off?_

Flashing a sad smile in response to the helicopter crews' request, Kirov shook her head. As she was running, the flight deck would be moving too much as well. She knew the feeling herself and hated it; when there is combat, yet the Eurocruiser wouldn't be allowed to contribute to the fighting; the Stavka was always paranoid about their new Revolution.

Not wanting to risk slowing down to a walk or a complete stop, the Eurocruiser continued running with the rest of her force. The HUD lit up with lines, columns, _divisions_ of JMSDF soldiers, and at least as many Abyssal warships.

 _Denied. The JMSDF, as well as the Abyssal forces here will tear you apart._

Ordnance continued to fall around them, shaking her vision each time the ground beneath her trembled with the explosion of a shell or mortar. She heard and felt the hastily placed shots returning from her own guns and her comrades' guns; more of a deterrant than to cause any true damage.

The Eurocruiser closed her eyes and muttered a short prayer as a cruiser beside her slumped to the ground with a cry, the explosion of a heavy shell flashing off her back and piercing her body.

She hoped the cruiser unknown to her would find a place better than where they were. A place without corruption, without war, without needless death…

The list was quite long.

The smoke towered over the District now, the most effective signal fire Kirov had ever witnessed. Muzzle flashes could still be seen at sea, and soon, the forces on land reciprocated the gunfire ringing clear from the bay with equal intensity.

The burnt out hulks of buildings, and scorched grass, the leftover embers of what were trees; her force followed Bismarck around the bay, and outside the base's perimeter. The battleship wasn't the fastest of them, but in a long run, Bismarck could probably outrun any of them, with the exception of Kirov.

Nuclear reactors could be very useful in certain situations.

Ignoring the sun and salty wind, the warehouses to their right burnt and smouldering, Bismarck fell onto a rock just short of the coastline. The seawall had dropped into the ocean at the rims of the harbour, and Eugen flopped down next to the battleship, letting out a long pent-up breath.

The Eurocruiser kneeled, poking the waters of the sea with her finger. It was pretty warm, for someone who served the Red Navy North Fleet.

The entire force of cruisers and destroyers hid in the shadow of those destroyed warehouses, panting and watching the waves roll up and down the sand and stone coastline.

The beach was relatively short, and if the nine remaining ships lined up side by side, they could probably cover half of the distance covered by the stones.

The Eurocruiser tilted her head up and closed her eyes, feeling the warm glow of the sun on her face, her hair blowing in the leeward gail, the salty spray of the sea occasionally hitting her as the waves impacted a rock.

Her heartbeat began to slow, and she saw that some of the other ships had already begun to stand.

Her HUD still looked as grim as it ever had since the task force had begun its retreat down the coast, and the Yokosuka Fleet seemed to be pulling back slowly as well in the face of withering fire from the ever growing Abyssal swarm.

The radio would have to wait until they found a moment when the shipgirl force wasn't literally up to their knees in Abyssal opposition.

From the corner of her vision, Kirov saw Prinz Eugen tilt her head and speak, presumably receiving a conventional radio transmission. The heavy cruiser nodded and cut the line, before turning to Bismarck and whispering a few words in the battleship's ear.

In turn, Bismarck acknowledged with a huff and stood up as well.

"The Yokosuka Fleet is retreating. Whether we're ready or not, we must set out to meet them now. The supply ships are safe, and they will have fuel there. They've picked up Akashi and Mamiya as well, so we have other auxiliary ships with us as well."

The Eurocruiser nodded. "Mind if I ask about the condition of the third party we sent out?"

"The cruisers looking for survivors?" Eugen filled in. "One survived. Apparently two of them were infiltrators themselves, and gunned our ships down in a firefight with JMSDF troops."

Prinz Eugen's news was met with a mixture of reactions. A few ships gaped, and Kirov had to exert a great deal of self control to not do so.

It would require time, Kirov realized. It would be hard on her if bad news reached her on the topic of her Motherland, as well. Some of the ships only nodded, and a further few simply stared blankly at the tossing expanse of the ocean.

"That's how far it's gone, huh?" a cruiser asked, to nobody in particular. Her form was mainly dominated by purple, as well as black highlights on her coat and pants. Dark grey spikes that covered her ears poked through the purple hair, looking somewhat like steel horns. It was the first time, in between all their movements, Kirov had actually gotten a look at her.

"We'll continue to fight, for them," Kirov answered. "The first step to that is living. Follow me, comrades, to the Yokosuka Fleet."


	16. Rendezvous

Kirov stepped off the stone, letting her feet slowly sink to their regular depths, not watching the water slosh around the steel boots that contained her rudder and propellers.

Behind her, splashes in the water signalled the sortie of her comrades, and the Eurocruiser turned towards the friendly signatures of the Yokosuka Fleet on the radar. She turned to watch the shore of Japan recede, under a smoke-filled sky. In the distance, Kirov could see the burning remnants of the city of Yokosuka.

One of the cities she had been assigned to protect, ablaze. The country she had been tasked with saving, fallen, without a navy.

Ahead of her, the Eurocruiser saw a screen of ships: the remnants of the Yokosuka Fleet. It was worryingly small, perhaps containing two or three battle groups; no more. There was still no sign of the fog that the Abyssals carried with them, but her radar still registered a very, _very_ sizeable force.

It felt unnatural and foreign to her, to look forward to something so anxiously. Her eyes glanced from ship to ship, hoping to identify the rear guard. If the fleet had fled, her division should have suffered some degree of combat with a much larger Abyssal attacking force.

 _There._

Kirishima, battered, but still afloat. As expected of a battleship.

Taihou, stumbling, but still operating planes. She'd have to ask about armor on decks. One of the things Kirov happened to fear, for good reason, was plunging fire.

Shells dropping at maximum range could easily tear through her relatively thinly armored decks.

Bismarck and Eugen next to her, but there was no sign of Atlanta.

Until she noticed the oil fire on the ocean, burning with a vengeance to the northeast. No Abyssal signatures showed up there, but they were all around it.

It was like an eclipse, but a shadow where the enemy should be.

 _And there's the pyro-maniac of a cruiser._

She breathed a sigh of relief, and unconsciously picked up a few more knots as she neared the remnants of the Yokosuka Fleet.

Kirov reached the ships first. Rejoining Kirishima, she watched as the group of destroyers and cruisers that had followed her inland split up and were absorbed into their assigned divisions.

"This is Eurocruiser Kirov. We've returned, with one casualty. Status of the second inland group is unknown, but suspected destroyed with the exception of one cruiser. The supply group is safe."

"Well done. However, the fight here is lost; we will retire southward to follow the Third Fleet. Finding a way out of areas under Abyssal jurisdiction is our greatest priority."

Kirov wholeheartedly agreed, responding with a "Yes, ma'am."

Belatedly, she wondered what had become of the two Admirals. Hyotaru had simply disappeared, the slippery bastard.

Mitsuwa wasn't even on scene. Of course, Admiral Mitsuwa had been on the radio at the beginning of combat, about ten minutes prior, yet the Admiral had not responded after the combat had ended.

They hadn't run into his corpse, either.

Away from the smoke, the fleet made its way southward. Kirov watched as the black sky receded, before vanishing, outside of her vision. If she tilted her head up, she could still see it, lingering beneath the clouds.

Nagato distributed the supplies from the two supply vessels, dangerously overloaded, to the most desperate ships. It seemed the fuel would last them a few days, at the least. Ammunition looked fine, but not enough for more than two prolonged engagements. Herself, Kirov could steam for almost eternity, with a reactor. But with a magazine full of expendable ammunition, and no energy weapons, she'd be pretty damn close to useless when she ran out of ordnance.

A Gauss rifle could be fun to mess around with, if Atlanta and Akashi could spare some time.

She'd given the flat tablet of a radio to Kirishima, who handed it to Nagato and a damaged Ooyodo. The three ships sailed in close formation after that small report, tinkering with the knobs and buttons in an attempt to have the device speak.

"How do you know it's a radio?" Taihou inquired, staring amusedly at the trio of baffled warships.

"There was a letter with it. From the Prime Minister," Kirov replied, staring into the expanse of water in front of her. It calmed her racing nerves somewhat, but did nothing to settle the battle of anxiety hammering in her head.

You know, the one when everything will probably go horribly wrong.

"Hm."

There was silence again, save for the gentle rolling of the ocean and the bursts of chatter here and there. With the voices of Kirishima, Nagato, and Ooyodo still prying at the radio's secrets, Kirov turned her attention to the former rear guard.

Atlanta had just caught up with them, returning from her recent...excursion. Bismarck was reading over Taihou's shoulder, causing the Eurocruiser to chuckle.

"Uhm...Eurocruiser-san?" Eugen tugged on her coat from her starboard, drawing Kirov's gaze away from the phenomenon in front of her. She tilted her head, indicating her attention.

"It's been quite busy and rushed these past few days, and euh, I don't think we've had all that much time to learn about you and your past," the heavy cruiser continued.

The Eurocruiser pressed her lips into a tight smile. "It's somewhat hard to recall my life as a...kanmusu. I can tell you more about the Eurocruiser program, and myself though."

"A secret joint naval project, is that what you said?" Bismarck pitched in suddenly, apparently having turned her focus, along with the armored carrier's beside her, to them.

"That's what the government said to the people. It's what I was told," Kirov replied coldly. It would be much easier to trust the hierarchy if the government wasn't so secretive. "Only I and my sister, Hornet, were completed. She's the lead ship." The Eurocruiser had intended to stop there, but the expectant eyes gazing at her prompted her to continue.

"Why weren't the others completed? For America, France, and Germany?"

Kirov closed her eyes, trying to pull old information from the recesses of her memory. "First, the Abyss. Second, the researchers and engineers heading our project disappeared. Before I left, Admiral told me they'd only found the bodies of two."

The eyes surrounding her suddenly widened.

"W-who?" Eugen managed.

The Eurocruiser cast a fugitive glance back at the burning skyline. "Who do you think is burning Tokyo to the ground?"

 _Wow. I give you an 11/10 for motivational speaking, with all due respect, ma'am._

 _Please kindly shut up, navigation._

"Well...what about the Soviet Union, then? You say you're Soviet, but the only government that exists in Russia is the Russian Federation," Atlanta threw her part into the fire, in an attempt to steer the conversation away from Japan.

Kirov scratched the back of her head. "This part is a bit hazy, but I think we exist as a private military contractor under the name of 'Gratis Security Group', or GSG. The Red Navy, Army, and Soviet Air Force exists under this name.

"Why I am Soviet and not Russian, I do not know."

It was true; the bridge turned up empty as well as her memory. Anything after her sinking, and before Japan, was simply a hole. A void in her consciousness.

Nobody responded, and Kirov looked away for a moment. Staring at the horizon, willing her headache to ease.

It did nothing to soothe the pain. Instead, it simply brought her attention to a group of black columns rising, their sources out of sight. However, the smoke seemed suspiciously similar to the Yokosuka Fleet's own.

The Eurocruiser decided that when they were safe, preferably on a piece of untouched land, she would just sleep and hope to never see smoke in large quantities again.

 _Ships spotted on the horizon!_ Her radar crew called out, and navigation acknowledged it quickly.

 _Allied or not?_ Kirov asked.

 _Unidentified. No discernible friend-or-foe signal received._

"Nagato," the Eurocruiser contacted their flagship. "I have an unidentified contact, about thirty kilometers out, on the horizon. You can see their smoke to compass bearing 213, southwest."

The tampering with the radio ceased, and the majority of heads in the fleet shifted in the direction Kirov had pointed them to. They wouldn't be Abyssal, for the Abyss did not carry such exhausts with them. Their enemies were slightly more environmentally friendly in that way, but nobody knew how they powered themselves without burning fuel.

Perhaps they did, only there was no visible byproduct. That would explain the occurrence of funnels on Abyssal ships as well.

"They are not Abyssal. I suggest we welcome them. Kirishima, hail the fleet," Nagato commanded, apparently heeding the same thoughts as Kirov.

"Understood!" the fast battleship dialed onto the old international frequency, one that fell into disuse many years ago. No two human fleets ever really met on the sea anymore, unless prearranged, and then there would be no need for an international hail. "This is the fast battleship Kirishima of the International Naval Base Yokosuka."

Kirov watched as Kirishima's face changed from anticipation, to worry, and the battleship's eyebrows furrowed, turning said expression into one of confusion. "No response, but I hear other contacts in the background. The quality of those signals are too weak to be from the group ahead of us, though."

Nagato crossed her arms in her well-known pose. "I suppose their comms are damaged. Fleet, right rudder, twenty degrees. Heading for the contact."

The ships turned in a lazy arc, their wakes tracing the path of their adjustment. It wasn't really much, they had been steaming southward anyway, but the Eurocruiser still found it somewhat fun to watch the trails of waves soar away form their propellers.

"This is the Prime Minister of Japan. Yokosuka Fleet, do you copy?"

A voice buzzed through her earpiece, and from the way Nagato jerked, the strange radio had picked it up as well.

Kirov stifled a laugh at the sight of the stoic battleship so flustered, but turned her attention back to the transmission as Nagato responded. "This is flagship Nagato, I hear you loud and clear, sir. Over."

"Good, I thought you would have ended up with it. Don't worry, Admiral Mitsuwa should be safe, if he reached the base. I suggest the same thing I told him: run. My government has lost control here. The JMSDF is no longer our force, nor Japan our country. The Abyss is here, my Fleet. I pray for your return one day, in liberation of my country."

Feeling somewhat guilty for eavesdropping from a remote receiver, Kirov cut off her earpiece and turned towards Nagato to listen from her radio instead. Hearing no immediate response from the battleship, Kirov turned her head upwards until she was surprised to see Nagato's crimson eyes clouding.

The battleship noticed and turned away, covering her face with her arm. "I'm sorry, my dear Nagato. We'll be here when you return, I promise."

Kirov took over for the still sniffling Nagato. "This is Eurocruiser Kirov. We understand, Prime Minister. We will be heading due south, currently approaching a formation of unidentified ships."

There was silence on the other end of the line. "Unidentified?" The Prime Minister asked quietly.

"Affirmative, sir."

"Avoid contact," the former leader of Japan ordered. "I have reason to believe those are the people collaborating with the enemy."

Kirov looked down and remained silent.

"Eurocruiser...it's been a pleasure speaking to our only modern ship. Give the Fleet my best wishes, but I must go. My Admiralty and I will be waiting. This is your Prime Minister, signing off."

Nagato, having settled down, reclaimed the radio from Kirov. "Thank you...Prime Minister. May you stay safe. We will be back, sir. I promise you this with my life and honor."

The man on the other end of the line laughed and Kirov could nearly see a man, in his forties and clad in a slightly dirtied white suit, snapping a crisp salute even as he knew his Fleet would not be able to see.

The transmission cut off, the line dead.

"I hope that wasn't intercepted," Kirishima worriedly thought aloud.

"It wasn't," Kirov assured her. "I could hear it from my earpiece." This apparently had the opposite effect on the battleship than intended, and the Eurocruiser coughed as she realized her mistake. "My earpiece is a special radio, a quantum radio, I think Admiral called it. Similar to quantum radar, which can detect 'stealth' units invisible to conventional radar, the quantum radio cannot be intercepted unless with a second quantum radio. The Prime Minister mentioned it in his letter to Admiral Mitsuwa," she quickly amended. "The only people in possession of these are the leaders of major naval powers."

 _If we can make it to Canada, I know they'd been working on a quantum radar as well before I sank._

"And you, apparently," Atlanta chuckled. "We'll keep that in mind, right Nagato?" The cruiser nudged their secretary-turned-flagship with her elbow, grinning the entire time. Kirov felt a smile creep onto her face as well. It was important to learn to have fun, even during war.

"O-of course."

"Unidentified fleet approaching visual range. Estimated contact time five minutes," Taihou reported, glancing at the steadily growing smoke.


	17. C-N

**Ah, exam week is here. Well, I'll be back after I fry my brain.**

 **Thank you for reading, reviews and feedback are appreciated!**

 **-Aeroutak**

* * *

 _Radar reports heat signatures! Enemy weapons are online!_

"Nagato!" Kirov had all but screamed into the radio. "Contact has opened fire!"

 _Shells estimated impact in T minus 10…_

"Shells inbound!"

"All ships, scatter!" Kirishima commanded, as projectiles powerful enough to level neighbourhoods slammed into the sea around and between the ships holding formation in the Yokosuka Fleet.

The remnants of battleship groups split apart, and carriers and their escorts broke into smaller, more maneuverable groups.

Kirov opted to stay with Prinz Eugen and Atlanta, for they could easily keep pace and support each other if needed.

Bismarck and Taihou chose to join a carrier group to their port.

A second salvo of shells whistled in, a few impacting the shipgirls. The radar had reported relatively small shell calibers, yet they were flying much too low and fast for a small caliber naval shell…

 _High velocity guns! Those could even be modern guns,_ Kirov realized.

That would surely explain how such small shells were punching through cruisers and _battleships_ like they were made of wet paper.

Granted, they wouldn't go through a battleship's main armor belt, but they could still cause considerable damage to the superstructure and weapons.

A plume of water leaped out of the ocean nearly right next to the Eurocruiser, quite literally shaking her out of her thoughts and soaking the ship through.

 _Ah, if I were only still a ship I wouldn't mind being so wet._

 _Their fire control solutions are getting much better, very quickly as well,_ Kirov noted anxiously.

"Permission to engage granted. Fire at will, and use any means necessary to stay afloat."

Kirov sighed in relief at Nagato's order. The Eurocruiser had already ordered her crew to general quarters; now she ordered them to man point-defense guns and missile defense systems.

 _Still would like the new 'munitions defense' systems though._

She still envied her sister for that.

"Radar! How many are there?"

 _A task force of about ten ships. That would mean four of us to one of them._

"That's the first time I've had an advantage in numbers in this war. Missiles locked!"

Kirov glared at the suppressed flashes of the single, long barrels glinting off their adversaries. Those were most definitely modern guns.

"Fire!"

She heard the familiar whoosh as her weapons left their launch bays, and then launched one helicopter to get a better look at their foe.

The chopper's pilot responded with a quick affirmative, and the aircraft rose into the sky.

Another series of splashes appeared around Atlanta, Eugen, and Kirov.

To be honest, the Eurocruiser felt slightly unnerved at the enemy's aim. It felt so precise, yet intentionally let off; as if they wanted to, they could have sunk the Fleet long ago.

Her missiles reached their targets. A few exploded in the air as they were caught in storms of shrapnel and bullets, but they claimed a fair number of ships for themselves. Grinning in satisfaction, Kirov ordered her missile crews to switch targets and fire again.

 _180 millimeters! Open up!_

Her three main guns, the same type as the light cruiser before her bearing the same name, the Project 26 Kirov, adjusted their barrels and fired.

Her fire-control solutions computer, with her own aid, began to calculate the angles for their next shots. Her guns levelled again, and as the hammers slammed into shells and fire erupted from hardened steel, she saw three impacts from her previous salvo light up the sea.

She'd always preferred high caliber shells to high-velocity ones. The Eurocruiser smirked, relishing the good reports filing in from the bridge.

 _Shells inbound; estimated flight time sixteen seconds._

 _Rudder, starboard forty degrees. Point defense, feel free to open up at any time._

Kirov banked to her starboard, squinting as the sea spray leapt into her face. The constant hum of missiles leaving their cells shook her rigging, and the dull thunderclap of her guns deformed the sea as they fired.

Glancing back at their enemy, Kirov asked the bridge to magnify.

 _Humans? Not Abyss, at least._

The Eurocruiser sailed onwards in a moment of astute confusion as shells landed around her, straddling her position in an ever-tightening area.

Her enemy seemed human enough, but wore a strange metal visor that was quite bulky over their eyes, as well as supporting smoother, longer riggings than her or her WWII counterparts. Her radar crew and bridge watch opened up comms at the same time.

"Missile launch detected!"

"VLS launch confirmed!"

 _Ah, feels like the good old days._

"Understood, thank you bridge and radar. CIWS and interceptors, open up when ready."

The glowing trails of fire, tipped by a steel point, drew closer, and her twelve CIWS mounts, each with their very own radar, coughed to life and spat out bullets at ten thousand rounds per minute.

A few warheads lit up and exploded, their remnants tumbling through the air before impacting the water. Her CIWS guns began to track new targets, but at just over one kilometer, the missile engines cut and were discarded, their metal housings plummeting into the sea below.

She heard the confusion erupt on the bridge, and momentary lull between rotary cannon fire. The 180 mm guns lashed out again, before pausing to reload and gaze at the gliding and rapidly slowing missiles in curiosity.

White parachutes deployed from the back of the warheads, and the forward halves of the former missiles plunged nose-first into the sea, cutting their parachutes.

 _Propeller signature detected and closing fast! Estimated impact twenty seconds!_

 _VLS torpedoes? That's the most bullshit I've heard in years. Rudder, hard left! Turn into the spread!_

A horrifying pinging picked up on her hull, incessantly growing faster with each passing second.

They were sonar torpedoes, it would seem.

"Torpedo countermeasures! Fire off...now."

Aside from conventional countermeasures, Kirov also housed a newer countermeasure as well. They were like torpedoes in their own right; simply without a warhead, and when activated, some of the loudest things in the sea.

She'd argue they were pretty effective at saving her from targeted torpedo strikes.

Her countermeasures were hauled over the side of her railings, the two heavy cranes on her aft dumping them into the sea as the crew were throwing them overboard.

However, she lacked any actual facilities to use them in a short time. The Eurocruiser would have to ask for an actual launch system.

 _There they go. Khorosho._

The trails of torpedoes lanced away from her comparatively silent engines and reactor, instead following the louder and more numerous countermeasures hastily thrown overboard. Kirov sighed in relief, and ordered her missile crews to prioritize the ships equipped with VLS weapons.

 _Feels like the good old days of modern warfare. Almost, da?_

She looked around for her comrades-in-arms. Kongou was steaming surprisingly close, just off her starboard side. Kirishima was further ahead, about five kilometers to the forward port now. Taihou and Saratoga had met and were staying back, having seen the VLS launches as well. Nagato was still steaming at center, fire leaping from the huge guns Kirov envied sometimes.

Having a tolerable reload was nice, though.

A near miss erupted off Kirov's port, jolting the Eurocruiser out of her thoughts. Her guns barked defiantly, and a new salvo of missiles left their cells.

 _Rudder, zero degrees. Straight ahead._

 _Further VLS launches detected. Projectiles in the air, confirmed visual._

 _Blow them away._

The Eurocruiser shook with the steady hum of the CIWS, only pausing to check on the ridiculous magazines used to house the nearly absurd amounts of bullets the defense systems required.

The torpedoes dropped into the sea, a wall of trails steadily moving towards the Yokosuka Fleet. At first, she hadn't worried; the girls were all quite well acquainted to torpedoes and dodging them.

 _They're sonar torpedoes._

There would never be enough countermeasures for that many torpedoes, no matter which way the Eurocruiser twisted it. It was hard job to protect the ships here, however.

It was the least she could do; the artillery ship had let Japan fall to Abyssal possession, after all.

"Nagato, update on the position of our ships at the moment?" The Eurocruiser demanded, eyes never leaving the missiles.

"Fairly spread out. I don't think we have a chance of stopping the missiles," the battleship replied grimly. Nagato left the line as the roar of 41 centimeter guns deafened the Eurocruiser's ears, even from a good six kilometers away.

 _Load timed fuses. Secondaries, assist in destroying the missiles._

"Battleships, if you would load your 'Type 3' shells! Those missiles are a grave threat to you!"

The missiles approached the same 1.3 km mark on her radar. Kirov held her breath, CIWS still blazing waiting for the weapons to disappear into the ocean, to the safety of the water.

They stayed in the air. Cruise missiles, guided, the bridge hypothesized. They had the range necessary to fly at such speed over a medium distance.

A quick thunder, in quick succession, rang out all along the Yokosuka Fleet. The sky lit up with shattering shells, spraying shrapnel in all directions as fused Type 3 anti-aircraft shells detonated mid-flight.

A number of missiles disappeared in a cloud of smoke and fire as they met the wall of flying steel, but many still made their way past and still had locks on their targets.

 _Fire interceptors!_

Missile interceptors. Smaller, and more maneuverable than cruise missiles, at the expense of range and damage. Kirov's own were stored in different mounts all along her length, and she turned them in every direction her radar pointed a missile.

The Eurocruiser's defense missiles impacted a number of supposed enemy missiles, but still failed to destroy them all; the relatively small force of only about ten ships on the horizon had managed to overwhelm even _her_ defenses.

She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, trying to block out the din as battle as enemy ordnance contacted, detonated, and subsequently proceeded to sink their targets. Some had even broken in half and capsized; Kongou and Kirishima had been hit thrice, but were still afloat.

Saratoga's planes claimed four more enemy ships.

The burning remnants of less durable cruisers and destroyers littered the once pristine sea, the water stained red with the blood of comrades she could not save, even if her sole purpose had been specifically to combat such threats.

Fire danced across the waves, oil slicks floating on the water as if they were tentacles, spiralling out from the sinking hulls of shipgirls, probing for the Eurocruiser, waiting for revenge.

 _I-I'm sorry. I'm a failure._

Kirov hastily turned her head away, attempting to keep the last of breakfast down. Her radar pinged again, and she counted a good number less hostile ships; the Fleet's guns and her missiles had made their mark as well.

 _Engineering, flank speed._

 _Ma'am!_ Came the reply, but not in acknowledgement. Her chief engineer's voice rang through panicked and confused instead, but Kirov hushed him.

 _Trust me, comrade. Please._

 _Will do._

A bell rang as her turbines spun up, winding faster than they had for the past few hours.. The sun had reached its peak, its intensity warming the sea to a more desirable temperature than it had been that morning. Kirov bent her knees and made herself smaller, and as her mechanical heartbeat slowed down from its acceleration, she kicked off towards the few enemy ships still afloat.

She heard a transmission over the radio, but opted to ignore it. When it came again, the Eurocruiser told her communications officer to simply cease his duties, and maintain radio silence until she lifted the order.

Kirov unconsciously pulled her recently shortened overcoat closer, gripping the strong fabric. She wasn't too fond of being encrusted in salt when she returned to base, but it was tolerable and unavoidable. With the rapidly growing silhouette of an enemy missile cruiser approaching, the Eurocruiser suddenly straightened, and before letting the missile cruiser retaliate, she fired a full salvo of all nine main guns, tearing through the other shipgirl.

She disappeared in a cloud of fire and debris, but the girl's beret fluttered down in front of Kirov, sending ripples through the water as it landed.

The Eurocruiser picked up the scorched hat, and stared at its roundel.

 _C-N? Interesting...These scum will fall as humanity rises once again._

The bridge took a few pictures of the hat, before Kirov sailed over where its owner had sunk, and dropped the hat after the sunken missile cruiser. As the Eurocruiser turned, she felt and heard the secondary guns placed around her hull clack to life, and the CIWS mounts positioned higher up roared to fire into the sky once again.

A few puffs in the air, and Kirov sighed in satisfaction. Her own missiles and guns could take care of the rest, and with friendly shells screaming by overhead, this pathetic insurgent modern force would be no more.

It was at that moment that Kirov forgot to lift radio silence, and was met with her helicopter screaming at her for permission to land.

"Apologies, comrade! Permission granted!"

Holding out her right arm, Kirov unfolded her small landing deck, and aircrews scattered around it to receive the incoming aircraft.

Two large forces of allied planes soared further into enemy lines, as many planes as two carrier air wings, Kirov guessed. Squadrons upon squadrons of dive and torpedo bombers broke off, plunging ordnance into C-N ships.

 _A little overkill, comrades, but it gets the job done quite nicely._

A bomb found its mark in the funnel of a cruiser to the Eurocruiser's starboard, lighting the ship up in a brilliant display of fireworks.

 _Well done._

The Soviet artillery ship stood silently for a moment, before the slightly worse for wear warships of the Yokosuka Fleet regrouped and met up with her among the burning wreckages of C-N and allied ships alike.

"Who were they?" Bismarck mumbled, glancing nervously around.

Kirov turned to face the battleship.

"Our newest enemy."


	18. Update One

_It had been raining the entire day, and it annoyed Kirov to no end. Since her transfer to Gratis Security, the installation at Vladivostok had done nothing but rain. The other ships stationed at the base were a helpful distraction to the pounding on the roofs and windows, but Kirov, who'd never really enjoyed casual conversations, always found herself staring out into the dark shadow of the bay._

 _None of the Abyssal Fleet had been sighted near Vladivostok for quite some while, after their first preliminary strikes against the world. And as the first wave subsided and the Abyss turned to holding their territory, no government seemed to be able to find their origin._

 _Were they truthfully unable to find it? Or had they simply been incompetent, or had not been trying at all?_

 _The Eurocruiser found herself fuming at the confusion brewing in her head, and glancing at the digital clock beside her, had slowly risen from her chair and turned towards the door. A drink would do her good. The only problem, the nearest place with a shot of vodka was the mess hall._

 _22:37._

 _That should be more than enough time to get back to her room, and sleep enough so she wouldn't do so during tomorrow's training. The first time that happened ended rather poorly for the Eurocruiser._

 _More importantly, there shouldn't be anyone up just milling about this time of night. No, the way should be pretty much clear of disturbance for her. Besides, the mess hall was only a few hallways away from her, so she should be able to avoid any unnecessary contact that might slow her, right?_

 _Her mind wandered idly as she stepped briskly through the cool air of Gratis Vladivostok base. Hopefully her act would give off a sense of urgency, and deter contact as well. She'd been through this process many times._

 _The Eurocruiser ran a few calculations through her mind, of previous routes and paces, of meters and feet, minutes down to the second. Naturally, favouring the quickest option, Kirov took a left for the shortest path to her destination._

 _The grey double doors that led into the big mess hall were just at the end of the next hall. Kirov smirked in success, before not hesitating to nearly rip the doors open._

" _Ah? Oh...how are you, Eurocruiser?"_

 _The ship in question froze at the unexpected interruption, but kept her composure nonetheless._

" _I'm well,"_

.

.

" _Stalingrad."_

* * *

 **Alright, exams are over! Here's a little cut while...I figure out the implications of next chapter.**

 **Thank you for reading (and sticking with me), and have a wonderful day! Feedback is appreciated!**

 **-Aeroutak**


	19. An Old Fortress

**Sorry for the late update, I had a few matters to attend to in the past week...**

 **Thank you for bearing with me. A new fanfic is in the works, expect it in the next few weeks.**

 **-Aeroutak**

* * *

"Form up!" Nagato commanded, and the dishearteningly small Fleet arranged themselves back into earlier formation, or parts of earlier formations.

First Fleet was all but non-existent, nearly completely decimated at Yokosuka. Only a handful of ships had survived from the Fleet.

Second Fleet was probably the most intact, but by no means unscathed. All members of the rear guard survived, as had a few carriers and their battle groups.

Third Fleet...well hopefully, they were still afloat and steaming for Taiwan.

All in all, the Fleet still retained a surface power of three aircraft carriers, Taihou, Saratoga, and Kaga.

Five battleships, Kongou, Kirishima, Hiei, Bismarck, and Nagato.

Six cruisers, Eugen, Atlanta, the odd Tenryuu, an obsessive (and now thoroughly enraged) Ooi, Jintsuu, and Sendai. It wasn't unlikely that the torpedo cruiser Ooi wouldn't take Kitakami's absence well, but it seemed that she was handling herself fine for now. With the support of the other members of the Fleet, nearly all of whom had lost someone dear, Kirov could safely say that they would recover.

The repair ship Akashi, two merchant cruisers, Mamiya, as well as one tanker composed their auxiliary force. A good support force was vital.

Fourteen destroyers, Shigure, Fubuki, Yuudachi…

Kirov lost track after those three. Could never remember names anyway. She watched as Nagato pressed her mouth into a thin, thin line, usual red lips giving way to white ones. The Eurocruiser sighed.

Tapping their flagship on the shoulder, Kirov whispered into the taller woman's ear.

"Comrade Nagato...might I suggest we head westward? In the dwindling days of peace, China built artificial islands as military bases. While most were in the South China Sea, I believe there were a few in the East Sea as well. My positioning systems are destroyed, but I think we should be near it."

The battleship tilted her head in contemplation, before deciding to nod slowly. "If you insist. I do not know what has transpired in the decades prior to us now, but if this is true, it is likely the United Nations took control of it and converted it into a forward operating base."

Nagato faced the devastated group of warriors before her. "We'll turn it into our home," she muttered.

"All ships, raise steam! Set course on bearing 243, southwest!"

Kirov waited until Bismarck sailed up behind her to wind up her turbines, muttering, "Your destination is on your right,".

The reference was lost on the old German battleship. Old World GPS systems annoyed her to no end; however, she did see no alternative to humans, who did not possess such a talented navigation division.

They could have at least programmed the little things better, though.

 _The metronomic flashing of light from passing streetlights broke the otherwise completely dark taxi, the scent of newly cleaned leather strong in the air. Kirov leaned against the window, outside of which was the cause of sharp cracks still echoing through the car. She couldn't actually see anything through the glass; the view was completely smothered by rain, the water literally pouring down the curve of the window. The blurry shapes of buildings, the bright stars of streetlights and the faint glows of windows of pubs and restaurants were all the Eurocruiser could make out from her seat under a thin metal sheet of a roof._

 _She sighed, closing her eyes. Tugging the collar of her still damp trench coat upwards, the Eurocruiser leaned against the cold window, her breath metronomically fogging and clearing the water coated glass. She'd dematerialized her riggings before she'd even boarded the plane, as security wouldn't let her pass with it. The Eurocruiser probably wouldn't fit in the 737, let alone the smallt taxi she was in right now with her riggings anyhow. Two armed guards had escorted her, for her security or others, that was for oneself to decide._

 _As the taxi bounced along the slick highway, Kirov's eyes grew heavy, and she found herself reminiscing of years past, and the overall existence of the Union._

 _Gratis Security Group was well known on the world stage, with some of the most impressive technologies and tactics. Unlike the Soviets of old, Gratis valued the lives of their combatants, something the Eurocruiser found likeable of the company._

 _From what she could remember, Gratis had bought her after her summoning, and said reason was the reason she was on a rickety taxi with two armed guards in the middle of Russia in a rainstorm so strong it shook the car._

 _Nobody had really tried to summon a modern ship before; Kirov didn't know why she still existed. All of the higher-ups had ruled her obsolete. Obsolete! The most advanced ship they had, with the most accurate and deadly firepower, obsolete! Her CIWS and air defense emplacements could swat planes out of the sky like flies! Mosquitoes!_

 _Of course, not actually knowing the situation, the authorities just thought her useless against the radar-scrambling mess the Pacific had become. Besides, what had the conventional DDGs done to the Abyss? Hurl missiles at the sea randomly, unable to see, or establish a lock on target?_

 _She sighed, opening her eyes to the passing streetlight. The light faded as the taxi drove on, and a new one took its place. Vladivostok wouldn't be so far, would it?_

"Radar reports landmass afore of us, bearing 182 degrees south," Kirov recited, her radar crews filing reports from the bridge. "It's long, with multiple buildings. Comrade Nagato, I think we're here."

"Very good, Eurocruiser-san. Fleet, sixteen degrees port, execute immediately."

The formation pivoted, and a large island came into view, printed by the receding horizon. A number of buildings towered over the island, and the shelf on which the island rested on had been supplemented with sand dredged from the nearby seabed. Kirov heard Nagato let out a sigh of relief, and the Eurocruiser let out a pent-up breath of her own. An airstrip was visible from her helicopters, spanning the entire length of the island.

It was probably long enough to accomodate a C-130, or the new wing-body fused PAK TA, capable of carrying a load of over 200 tons.

There were a few derelict aircraft scattered around the fields surrounding the airstrip, their smoking wreckages littering the landscape. As the Fleet drew closer, they could see the torn United Nations and Global Coalition flag hung limply on a tall flagpole, in front of a wrecked building.

From the looks of it, the building was once an office, perhaps the Administrative Building of this artificial island. Beside it, there was a smaller building, concrete, which had escaped the worst of it. The structure was still intact, and with a little cleaning inside, could probably be used.

The hangars that once sheltered aircraft were in a dismal state, a few having completely collapsed under fire. Mother Nature had already begun her work on the structures of the island, a few buildings already creaking under the weight of moss and ivies spiralling across their cracked walls. A few wild flowers danced in the wind, and as the Fleet drew closer to the harbour, Kirov thought she rather liked the flowers.

Perhaps when she met her old Admiral again, she could give some to him.

 _Hold on, ma'am. We've got a contact in the northwest building._

 _Ignore it for now. We'll investigate soon._

"Ngh!" Bismarck grunted as she stumbled onto the land. It seemed the battleship had approached too quickly. The remainder of the force scrambled ashore with little difficulty.

Immediately, heads turned, surveying the artificial island. Kirov found herself drawn to the lone aircraft hangar still relatively untouched. Perhaps there were aircraft there still operable, or at least salvageable. They would need new planes as the carrier air wings slowly lost power.

Of course, with the ridiculous appetite of _some_ of the carriers, they were able to repair and replace planes to a certain extent themselves, but it wasn't as if the Chinese island base was stockpiled with food.

There was a large seafront warehouse, and Nagato led the fleet down to it first. The small thirty or so ship armada slipped away from the beachhead, guns pointed to every direction both inland and seaward. A rusty metal door provided entrance, and was not hard for Kirishima to kick down.

The first cruisers quickly filed in, as well as Hiei, lighting up the dark building with powerful, nearly blinding floodlights.

"We're clear, Nagato-san."

"Move in."

Trudging along with the other ships, Kirov eventually found herself inside as well. There was a rather big drydock, with strong cranes surrounding it.

Of course, the cranes _looked_ strong enough.

Multiple crates were piled haphazardly around the building, and a few discarded drums of oil, full of bullet punctures were as well.

A small torpedo boat wallowed in the waters of the dock, tied to its moorings on the concrete pilings. Akashi and the other repair ships would be able to rig the cranes to operate with riggings. Many ships sat down numbly, their legs finally giving in to fatigue. Once they raided the other warehouses, then they could decide how resources were doing. Fuel and steel wouldn't be hard to come across, but the specialized ammunition that the shipgirls preferred to use were rare.

Although the ships were able to create their own ammunition to a limited extent, as did the aircraft carriers with planes, it required a large amount of food, something the Yokosuka Fleet happened to be quite short on at the moment.

But for now, as they set to work with the pulleys and trusses, it would be a good idea to stay armed until they cleared the remainder of the relatively small island. With no interruptions, taking control of the base wouldn't take long. As the sporadic panting of the ships slowed to a more steady pace, Kirov stood up and began to make her way between seated girls and back towards the door.

 _Ah, time to investigate. Navigation crews, pinpoint target position, if you please._

"Eurocruiser-sama? Where are you going?" Eugen asked, gingerly holding her damaged Number Three turret. The Eurocruiser gazed at the cruiser's broken gun.

"For a walk, comrade Eugen," she answered. "For a walk."


End file.
